Simply irresis-tea-ble

   Sometimes a bully arrives in disguise: in this case, an unexpected snowfall, beautiful to the eye, glorious to (my snow-deprived, Southern) soul but cruel and unpredictable to tire's tread.  

The bully double-dog dares me to move, and I march across his silly imaginary line, defiant and bold on the outside while a rabble of butterflies swarm in my belly.  I haven't driven in snow for 100 years and never for 300 miles.

A few weeks ago, treacherous driving conditions threatened to cancel our annual Valentine Tea Party.  Stubborn and determined, I wasn't going down without a fight.  

Why did it matter so much to me?  Why would I leave my husband and sons?  Why would I ask my socially-busy daughter to give up her friends for a weekend?  And why in THE world would I drive five hours in SNOW when I wasn’t sure if anyone else could even make it?

Within my reasons for pressing on, I think there's encouragement and challenge for all of us.

[1]  It's a way I "arise and call her blessed".

Honoring my in-laws is important; it's a command with a promise.  That indicates it's important to God, too, especially because He repeats himself on the matter--old testament, Gospels and more.

Fifteen years ago, my mother-in-law Sarah, asked me if I'd be interested in hosting a mother-daughter Valentine Tea Party for my then three-year-old daughter.  My "Yes!" was immediate, and Sarah's sparkling eyes proclaimed her fingers-crossed, hoped-for answer.  

A little confession?  A few years ago, right after we moved five hours away, I was done...finished...over it!  But at some point before the next February, I realized this tradition was bigger than my personal inconvenience.

Now, I will do anything in my power to continue this tradition for my mother-in-law's sake. 

As evidenced by driving through Friday afternoon Atlanta traffic in the midst of a freak Southern snow storm.

 [2]  It binds the generations and teaches by example.

For a few hours on "Valentine Saturday", three generations of women skirt the dining room table and feast on friendship, family and Valentine fare.  Appealing to palate and eye, the menu is decidedly girly. The table is dressed in polished silver, dainty fine china, wrinkle-free linen and flower-laden vases; the ladies--the "littles" and the {ahem} "bigs"--are dressed in holiday dazzle with the loveliest accessory of them all:  good manners!

"Please" and "thank you" pour as freely as sweet tea.  Conversation is laced with news and opinion and of course, stories of another time.  Laughter rains.  Smiles paint faces.  Younger girls learn not to demand more than their share of attention and conversation becomes art...a masterpiece brushed by a room full of artists.

No one rushes to leave.  

 [3]  My daughter refuses to stop growing.

She's over half-way through her junior year of high school, and I hear the clock ticking.  Loudly.  

We've encouraged independence in our children and from the time they toddled, ignorant arrogance easily proclaimed "we aren't raising them for ourselves, we're raising them for someone else."  I still believe that but its truth stings my heart.

She has no memory of a Valentine's Day without the Valentine Tea and even at 17 she appreciates the value of tradition. This hasn't been explicitly taught, it's been caught by years of consistency and observing key women in her life--aunts, cousins and one Best Friend Forever for each of the granddaughters...and a very well-intentioned mother and grandmother.  Relationships connect the years.  

Real conversation unravels when you have ten hours alone in a car.  This is my favorite part of her age--her probing questions, watching her wrestle with contemporary issues through the filter of faith.  She tells me about another student who is pregnant at her school and the door is opened to frank discussion on premarital sex, dating, birth control.  

She doesn't expect some of my responses, but she gets to see how I wrestle, too.  Then we tackle alcohol and casual drug use.  Next, friend frustrations.  She has permission to speak freely and sometimes I have the privilege of helping her see with new eyes.  Sometimes she does that for me.

Traditions are important; not for traditions' sake, but because they honor those who take part, bridge generations and strengthen family fabric.  

 Your turn:  Besides the obvious "big" holidays, do you celebrate in a way that breeds tradition?  Might you consider beginning your own?  Because I haven't done this with my boys (and my husband doesn't have a similar annual event with them either), I'm especially interested in suggestions you might have for sons.  

by Robin, Pensieve

My eyes, they have a mind of their own!

When I was little—maybe 5 or 6—I remember my mom getting really upset with me for rolling my eyes at her. (Are you surprised?)

I wanted so desperately to stop, to behave, to be good. But the thing was...I didn't know what "rolling my eyes" was! And since I didn't know what it meant to roll my eyes, I certainly didn't know how to stop!

Fast forward a couple dozen years to, oh, tonight. At choir practice. In church.

We were practicing one of our very serious songs for Good Friday, and Brett, our choir director, was not happy with our tone. We were too bright, not singing tall enough. So he threatened, as he does from time to time, to make us stick three fingers in our mouth.

(It's not as weird as it sounds. It forces us to really open up and have a tall, mature sound.) He kept threatening, and we kept singing...poorly.

And so he said, "Okay, that's it. I'm not kidding. Do it."

I felt it start, and I'm telling you, I couldn't stop it. My eyes, they were a-rollin'!

You know, I'm a sarcastic person. And I will confess to having the urge to roll my eyes often. I mean, we're talking several times a day.

I'm not proud of this, but I have—for the most part—learned to control it. My favorite eye-rolling-controlling trick is to simply close my eyes. Close my eyes, roll my eyes, then open again. See?

Actually, no you can't see. And that's the point.

I don't know what happened tonight. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I was feeling at home and comfortable sharing my true feelings. Maybe I have had a rough week and was slightly annoyed at the thought of sticking half my hand in my mouth.

Whatever the excuse, I did it. I totally rolled my eyes. At my choir director.

Thankfully, he has a good sense of humor and just laughed at me. With me. Okay, at me.

I’m so thankful for that kind of everyday grace. And I want to extend the same thing more often to the people in my life. From the driver who just cut me off on the highway to my husband who hurt my feelings to my co-workers who miss another project deadline, they deserve grace just as much (or as little!) as I do.

So that’s my goal for this new year. And if I have to roll my eyes to get through it, at least I’ll have the good sense to close my eyes first!

Have you made a mistake that was instantly forgiven lately? Is there someone you need to forgive? How do we learn to forgive more easily?

by Mary

Googling Grace

I'm about to blow the lid off of your belief system.

Here we go.

I. Am. Not. A. Genius.

Breathe, and then let's just move on. You can pray through that heartbreaking reality later.

Here's how I know I'm not a genius. I just had to google "grace."

I know I need it.

I know I don't deserve it.

I know I can sing songs about it.

But if you want a definition, I don't know.

According to Wikipedia (that in general, I do NOT trust but that is really a post for a later day), grace is the unmerited favor of God.

Well. If there is one thing that characterizes my life it is UNMERITED FAVOR.

Sheesh.

I'm a mess. I'm a handful. I'm a sinner and a failure. I say too much. What I lack in discipline I make up for in overindulgence. I am one part over-committed and one part under-committed.

[You are just DYING to be my friend now, aren't you?]

I'm underwhelming, yet He chooses me.

I'm overwhelming, yet He never leaves my side.

I'm undeserving, yet He picks me.

I am loved. I am favored. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. My every step is calculated and under the watchful eye of a loving Father.

I am surrounded. I am hemmed in. I am protected.

My definition of grace? I was standing alone, in a puddle of mud, when God picked me up and set me in a flowery field, let me rest, and gave me a strawberry milkshake to drink.

Honestly, I don't know if that's grace. I am not about to rush out and start tossing grace-laced sentences all over the streets of my town and telling folks that God gives out free milkshakes.

[But I hope we have lots of them in Heaven.]

All I know is that I am the definition of UNMERITED.

Yet I am the definition of FAVORED BY GOD.

And that's not an answer you can find on google.

That's just an answer from one girl who knows.

by Annie Downs

Joy in the Jammies

My mom has this thing.

She likes to buy us matching pajamas for Christmas.

Which was so super cute. When we were 9, 8, and 2.

But I'm thinking that at 29, 28, and 22, it is losing some of its luster, mainly to her. Apparently the snowflake pajama pants and matching long sleeve t-shirt combo isn't fulfilling anymore. 

To be fair, we do love free pajamas. In my world, snowflake pajama pants are really useful year round. Because they were free. So I wear them. In July. Amen.

But last Christmas, my mom decided to kick it up a notch. Add some extra flavor to the holiday mix.

Yep. There we are. Myself and my two adult-aged sisters. In footy pajamas. With sock monkey feet. And I have a t-shirt on under my pajamas. I'm not sure why, but it seemed like the right choice at the time.

[And wait. Doesn't this fit into the "Gutsy Girls" category? Cause I'm thinking it takes some guts to post a picture of yourself in footy pajamas for all the world to see.]

So my sweet mom finds some type of Christmas-like joy in being able to a) control us or b) unify us or c) humiliate us or d) all of the above.

I'm going to go with choice d.

And, in all seriousness, I think she just likes to give us things. She's great like that. So maybe she gets a few kicks from making me wear sock monkey footy pajamas on the eve of my 30s, but none the less, she loves giving us gifts.

Now. I feel it appropriate that in order to make your joy complete, I must show you the piece de footy-resistance.

My poor 25 year old cousin. Also known as "the 4th sister." Also in footy pajamas.

Bless his heart. Are you surprised to know that is is one of my mom's favorite pictures? I didn't think so. And I'm not sure my cousin will ever speak to me again after posting this. 

Merry Christmas, y'all.

May your holiday be filled with family, Jesus, love, and humiliating pajamas.

by Annie

Sweet Joy

I know it's the last weekend before Christmas. . . Do you need a paper bag to regulate your breathing?!. . . but I have a little spark, an idea that might bring some joy into your life.

I invited a handful of girlfriends over for peppermint hot cocoa and a few dirty snowballs this past Sunday afternoon. I spit-washed the house, shutting the closet door on my office that has become the Christmas zone, and lit my favorite cinnamon candle. It was such a needed time for all of us.

Amazing how afterward none of us complained about the load of laundry we didn't wash, the email we didn't return, or the gift we didn't wrap. We simply enjoyed conversation by the tree, a warm mug, giggling at new stories, and how we had missed being a girl.

I gave my friends space to be themselves, to have their senses reignited, and more than a moment to catch their breath. I walked away with a fresh spirit to embrace the seaso myself.

Will you call a friend for a chat over a gingerbread latte? Will you ask friends to stop by for a few moment escape from their last minute hustle-bustle this weekend? You could give them a much needed gift.

By: Someone You May Know

The day I decided to go green - well, sort of...

I have never bragged about being a great driver, okay?

But yesterday more people than normal beeped at me. What in the world? I just started waving at people assuming they were simply being friendly.  Or in a chipper mood since the Christmas season is upon us.

Then I was a bit shocked to receive the following text from one of my daughter's friends:

"Mrs. T... my mom and I just passed you and you have a bush or huge limb of some sort sticking out the back of your car. LOL."

Let me just say it is an unfortunate thing if you are walking about with toilet paper hanging from your shoe. Or, if you have a poppy seed stuck between your front teeth. Or, if you forget to zip a certain zipper. Yes ma'am.

But having a bush hanging from the backside of your vehicle just takes embarrassment to a whole new level.

Apparently, when I backed up earlier in the day and my vehicle seemed hesitant to pull forward, there was a reason. My bumper snagged a bush from my yard.  But a revved up SUV was no match for the bush and her root system.  Have mercy.

If this happens to you this month, I have two words for you.  RED BOW.

My theory is, if you can’t hide your mistakes…decorate them.

What's your favorite funny Christmas moment?

by Lysa

LOL Devotions

Normally I'm a proper and dignified mother. Really.

I've even been known to serve brussel sprouts to my family. I may not be president of the Parent-Teacher Association, but I do show up for parent-teacher conferences. I may not diligently nag my kids to floss their teeth, but I do take them to the dentist.

I'm not supermom, but I pretty much have things under control.

Usually.

I think that's why everyone was so surprised when it happened:

We had finished dinner and I turned to Hosea 3. We'd read chapters 1 and 2 the nights before, and you'd think the outburst would have happened then, while reading about the sensitive topic of adultery—and it would have been immature teenagers who got out of line. But it was the raisin cakes that got me.

The LORD said to me, "Go, show your love to your wife again, though she is loved by another and is an adulteress. Love her as the LORD loves the Israelites, though they turn to other gods and love the sacred raisin cakes."

I started laughing. When I tried to explain what was so funny, I realized I simply had no explanation, and so began laughing even more. "Sacred raisin cakes!" is all I managed to sputter. Everyone smiled a little, and looked at my husband to see if he were secretly dialing for help from strong men in white coats.

I tried to compose myself to read on, but to no avail. Tears streamed from my eyes and I giggled hysterically. I felt like a little girl in church trying to keep quiet after hearing the pastor say "virgin." I just couldn't get myself under control. Before too long, everyone was laughing.

Has this ever happened to anyone else?

We didn't finish our devotions, and I was still chuckling while trying to fall asleep that night.

Hosea is actually one of my favorite books of the Bible, which I explained to my kids the following evening when I was back to my sane self. It's one of the most powerful stories of God's relentless pursuit of us, and I'm always brought to tears by it. (Just not usually tears of laughter.) 

I absolutely do not deserve the love of God, and yet he lavishes me with it freely and unconditionally, transforming me into a new person. We have strayed from him, but he calls us back and transforms us into his beautiful bride. I choke up even as I write it. God loves me! He loves us! I can hardly take it in. While the giggles may seem like an unusual response, gratitude is certainly fitting!

And if gratefulness were expressed in laughter, LOL devotions would be a common occurrence.

Just imagine how fun Thanksgiving Dinner could be! 

Have you ever gotten an unexpected case of the giggles? When is the last time you delighted in God's love for you?

by Heather Gemmen Wilson

Friend Blessing

 

If I were to write a list documenting people, experiences, feelings, and items for which I am thankful, that list would number in the thousands. Friendship would near the top of the list...only a few notches down from God's grace, my husband's forgiving heart, and sound of my kids' belly laughter.  

And friendship begets more list items like: words of assurance, understanding smiles, insightful conversations, extract-the-air-from-my-lungs funny moments, being handed a stain remover pen after spilling purple grape juice down my white shirt, and people who *get* me.

“As iron sharpens iron, so does one man (woman) sharpen another” - Proverbs 27:17 (NIV)

Friendship equals blessings...both being blessed and being the blessing.  I find that when I spend time cultivating new friendships and time kindling friendships that span decades (and all those friendships in between) that feelings of warmth and gratitude increase.

This occurs not only because I am thankful for specific friends and memories, but because true friends encourage and inspire me to make better decisions, give more of myself, let go of unrealistic expectations, and cling tightly to what matters above all things.

While calendar squares have a tendency toward overcrowding during the holiday season, scheduling time aside for fun with friends can increase joy. Here are three event ideas.

Pumpkin Recipe Tasting Party

Pumpkin...it's not just for pies. Invite friends to a potluck style party and ask that each guest bring a dish that uses pumpkin.

Trust me, if you type “pumpkin recipes” into your search engine, you will get lots of choices. Recipes can be sweet or savory: pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin and chocolate chip muffins, pumpkin and curry soup, pumpkin cheese spread, pumpkin stew, and pumpkin humus  are a few examples from parties I either hosted or attended.

Each friend can bring a recipe of her choosing or you could assign categories (I.e. Heather and Amber bring appetizers, Sara and Jessica bring a main course, Holley and Ann bring a dessert, and Mary and Lindsey bring a beverage.)  

Gratitude Opportunity: Open the event with a prayer thanking God for the friends gathered and for the abundance of food, resources, and creativity that He has given us.

Clothing Swap Party

Who couldn't use a few new items to spice up her wardrobe?  A clothing swap party gives you and your friends a chance to rid your closets of clothing that no longer fit and trade them in for something else. 

These parties are easy to coordinate. Invite friends at least a week in advance and ask them to bring any gently worn clothing items with the exception of under garments (if you don't add this exception, you may be surprised). Shoes, handbags and accessories are also welcome.

All unclaimed objects can be donated to a local women's shelter. Another option is to calculate how much money you saved by not going shopping and chip in to donate that amount to a local charity or a church mission project.  

Gratitude Opportunity: While cleaning out your closet, take time to thank God for clothing...not the fashion aspect, but the act that you have the basic necessities your body needs.

Volunteer Day Party

Serving others together is beautiful way to enhance friendships and make new ones.

Perhaps you and your gal pals could decorate a local nursing home, serve meals at a shelter,  or collect and organize baby items at a crisis pregnancy center.

Each community has its own needs, brainstorm with your friends to find creative ways to help meet those needs.

Gratitude Opportunity: Taking the focus of oneself and lavishing others with love and service is a great reminder of Christ's love for us. It also provides time to recognize the blessings that are easily taken for granted.

 

What's your favorite way to spend time with friends?

by Angela Nazworth

The Seasonal {Truffle} Shuffle

The weatherman’s little square picture last weekend forecasted clouds and showed 39 degrees as the high temperature. You might assume I had started the semi-annual task of updating my children’s closets, but I’m a professional procrastinator, and big projects are my specialty.

You know the drill for the switch: hours of dragging dusty boxes down from the attic, hashing though worn clothes and sorting the current closet contents to weed out what’s needed for the cold winter ahead.

I feel a little like George Washington planning and protecting his troops at Valley Forge- except without the white powdered wig and starvation and such.

Yesterday, I worked in Ollie’s room and it was a snap! I took out the things that didn’t fit, boxed them up and added what new things I’d bought. {That lucky first born child gets the brand NEW consignment clothes!}

I had to stealthily make the big switch while he was at pre-school, though, to stash away his beloved Thomas the Tank Engine shirt. With it on, he looks like Dora wearing her belly shirt, so I was happy to see it retired.

Today was more of a challenge. I sifted through 4 boxes of sweaters, semi-wadded shirts and corduroy pants that I can already hear wrink-wrink-wrinking down the hallway. Henry has the hand-me-down version of consignment clothes, but most were still fit to be seen in public.

Each time I opened a box, I felt a surge of my recent past coming back to me. My two boys are two years apart; long enough for me to forget each item, but short enough to remember the moments they were worn. Many memories are attached to those treasured outfits that my little guy is acquiring from his big brother.

I touched and lingered a little over most of them: outfits he wore to weddings, special gifts from family, adorable Christmas jumpers, special splurge pajamas and even the somewhat tattered-edged jeans. This was the year that my husband put the kibbutz on smocked outfits, but I still got by with a few.

As I was sifting though the 3T wardrobe and tearing up about my growing children, I started to realize that God does a little bit of seasonal cleaning in me, too.

He has stripped some of the things that I thought I needed for security {much like the Thomas shirt} and has given me exactly what I need for this season of my life: friends like sweaters for warmth, family like jackets for protection and children like splurge pajamas to keep life interesting.

God shows up in my wardrobe, too! Sometimes he is the corduroy pants I can easily hear and see in my life and sometimes he is the well- worn college sweatshirt casually waiting for me to notice him. Either way, he is always there {but hopefully not in the stack awaiting a trip to the dry cleaners}.

While I am constantly going through the cleaning out process in life, each lesson has made me who I am and I’m thankful for all of them- even the stained and slightly torn ones. Those give me character, right?  And I think they might even be in style this season.

So, welcome fall and winter! We are looking forward to new memories in hand me down clothes and the lessons God will teach us in this season of life.

Without the belly shirt.

Hallelujah and Amen.

What kind of seasonal shuffle does God do in your life?

by Hillary

No Pizza Please

I couldn't believe I said it. I was the guest speaker at a mega church, and I made a mega misspeak. I was telling the story of how my husband and I met at a writer’s conference: "He was a publisher looking for an author,” I said. “Let me tell you, he found one—and he did a whole lot more than publish me." The audience burst out laughing, and I blushed. Yikes! I didn't mean for it to sound like that!

The show must go on, of course, so I continued my talk and led them from that humorous moment to a poignant awareness of God’s grace. As soon as I got to the privacy of backstage, however, I put my hands over my face and laughed at myself.

Only to discover I hadn't turned off my microphone.

The sound guy came running over and yanked the mic from my ear and the pastor gave the crowd a moment to laugh again at my second blunder.

Yes, some days are like that. Some days we just dig ourselves deeper and deeper.

Here’s the good news: The spiral effect can go the other way too. When we start doing things right, they keep getting better.

I had this epiphany while meeting with my friend Christi, who is a personal trainer. She mentioned in passing that she hadn’t had a slice of pizza since 2003. My face must have been saying, “What kind of maniac are you?” because she laughed. “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she said. “To be honest, I don’t even want pizza anymore.” That’s when I knew she was nuts.

She went on to explain that whenever we indulge in unhealthy food we train our minds to need it. There is a chemical response that goes beyond simple desire. It’s only after we go through a period of time without junk (she said 21 days) that we can be free of its power. “I don’t need to exert self-control to not eat pizza," she said. "It just doesn’t look appetizing to me anymore.”

She wasn't nuts; she was free!

That gave me hope for my struggles. Not only will I be able to resist, I’ll actually be able to change. Maybe the reason we don't make the changes we want to—like losing weight or spending time with God or impacting the world—is because we don't believe we can overcome our vices. We think we will have to resist our urges for a lifetime.

Maybe it's not so much about self-control. Consider this verse. “Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4). When we turn away from our sinful nature and focus on him, he actually changes our desires. We become new people. We won’t even want our old junk anymore.

Embrace the upward spiral effect! I’m not saying you won’t have embarrassing moments. (Hopefully you will; they almost always make you laugh.) I’m not even saying you’ll master your self-control. I’m saying you’ll spin out of control in the right direction.

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