Easy

I'm rottenly spoiled. Like crazy spoiled. Yes, we struggle like most people in America in the middle class check to check world, but really - Good Lord Almighty, do we have it made. I was listening to the radio this morning about a little boy who would be 8 the next day. He was living out of a car with his family, and some kind stranger paid for him to have a hotel room for the night because of the bitter temperatures that were to come when the sun went down. This precious little boy was so happy to spend the night "not in a car" for his birthday.

That bit hard. Like ugly cry hard moment on the way to bring my kids to school in my heated seats, cushy interior mini van, knowing full well I'd head home to my pretty little yellow house with a warm light welcoming me back to the crazy, but absolute privilege.

The joy in the little boy's heart was so simple. And he was beyond grateful for this sweet gesture from a stranger.

I'll admit. I have had a very privileged life. Growing up, I never really worried about much other than petty gossip or typical teenage woes. My family was comfortable financially, and my extended family was nothing short of beautifully kind-hearted and good. We loved each other dearly, and we all went to church. So having faith was easy. It was never a back-burner, I'll get to it if I have time sort of thing. I cannot give credit to myself for my faith journey - it was laid clearly in front of me by my parents. And God Bless them for that.

And that ease of faith, well, the treasure in it is priceless.

When I'm troubled, prayers. When I feel broken, prayers. When I'm lost, prayers. When I'm joyful, prayers. Always. My heart turns to Him because I was taught about Him by my family and my surroundings. And it was easy.

My heart goes to the ones who do not have it easy. I heard someone from my church say that people in unreachable places were wearing shirts that had "Coca-Cola" written on them before they even heard of God. It's mind-boggling that we live in a world where Coke gets to people before we can get God to them.

So today, I'm grateful I had it easy. Thank you, Mama, Daddy, and those who struggled before us to give me this privileged, BLESSED life. 

the Pause

Ugh!!! Traffic is not my most favorite thing, especially when my sweethearts are dragging their heels, toes, arms, backpacks, whatever they have. And we're late. But, honestly, we usually aren't these days. Our oldest has grown so incredibly responsible and really has her stuff together. (Proud mama moment!) And the middle actually does, too. Even the littlest usually has her things lined up, ready to go. And the only hurry we run through is usually the morning rituals and getting ready. So lately, we kindof have this thing down. And once the indoor rush is over, we can usually handle whatever traffic issues we may encounter.

And we have time for the pause.

This blessed pause has spared my sure demise so many times. I remember my parents telling my 14 year old self that was learning how to drive to "never immediately go when the light turns green." I think that is probably the most important traffic rule of thumb out there. And blinkers. For the love of God, please be courteous to others and use them. But anyway - I can't tell you how many times I've paused at a green light and have avoided a red-light runner traveling at the speed of sound hitting me broadside.

The pause has undoubtedly spared us all.

Why we are in such a hurry I will never understand. I've become a forced early riser thanks to the local high school's before sunrise start time. There's no way on earth I will let my first born princess get ready and not be awake to help her and see her off. The moments I get with her are becoming fewer and farther between, so I honestly don't mind waking early to get a little bit more of her time. I know friends, boys, school activities, and personal interests are kindof taking over. And I've prepared myself for this for a long time. I get it. I understand what phase she's at. And I will undoubtedly miss her beyond measure when she grows her little wings.

So, I've enjoyed picking her up and bringing her to school even though she can catch the bus. It gives us a little more down time of one on one, and I look forward to her stories. So making sure we leave early enough gives us The Pause together. No traffic, no hurrying, just her and me. And I don't rush it. I think even the quiet early mornings allow her time to be at peace and pause before the day officially begins.

I am thanking God for that down time today. Amidst the craziness of the last grasp - making sure they've been taught all they could while under my roof, I cherish the little non-monumental glimpses of The Pause - the do-nothing moments where we just breathe and be. The Seventh Day of our weeks where time kindof misses its speed and gives us a few empty seconds that allow God to move in and fill it with His love is something that has surely saved our lives. 

Birthdays

"We shall steer safely through every storm, so long as our heart is right, our intention fervent, our courage steadfast, and our trust fixed on God."

— St. Francis de Sales

That's the first thing I read today, on my 43rd birthday. I hope that my heart has been right, my intentions fervent, my courage steadfast, and I do have my trust fixed on God. I've been very blessed that things work out, they always do. Maybe not in the way we imagined, but they work out. And don't they for everyone if they place their trust in Him? We are still here, are we not? So something has to be working out. 

I feel like I tread water quite often - like sometimes I'm forcing a path that maybe I shouldn't be. But those words I read today helped me realize that if your reasons are noble, then the decisions you make are valid. We've really tried hard to make those big decisions with the best interests in mind. 

And they're always the harder ones, I can promise you that.

Nope, it wasn't easy bringing the kids to mass. But they're there, and their little hearts know Him and what His teachings are. They know how to treat others, and they are always willing to lend a helping hand for the benefit of mankind. 

And they know the joy in becoming selfless. 

Nope, it wasn't easy to take the kids on vacations. But they're going, and they are loving them as much as we do. I hope their memories keep the good stuff.

Nope, it wasn't easy to make dinners every (well, most - I'm not a saint) night. But we did, and the kids have healthy eating habits, and resist the temptation of gross fast food. And they are now helping make them - preparing for their grown up lives. 

Nope, it wasn't easy sitting down to dinner every night. But the laughter around the table and the unplugging and bonding is something we all treasure. Oh, yes, there were plenty of push and pull dinner eating encouragement nights, but it's ok. We're just trying to love them through brussel sprouts.

Nope, it wasn't easy making the kids do homework, keeping up with the emails, calls, and it still isn't easy. But we're getting through it, and the joy that they feel when they overcome these school obstacles creates self-confidence. And hopefully it's forming good self-driven work habits. But we're still working on that one - lol!

Nope, it wasn't, and never is easy pulling out the driveway of my parents' house and waving good-bye, knowing that I live far away from them. But I am grateful to have them in my life still. And I am grateful for the life they gave me 43 years ago today. 

Nope, it wasn't easy to do the good stuff. It wasn't easy to make the tough choices and decisions. It wasn't easy to say no, to gently encourage greatness in spirit. But when it happened, when we look back on what we did that was tough but good, we find that it was usually the right thing to do. And it's beginning to pay off. My heart is beyond full of the good stuff, and I hope that my little peon of a life mattered to a handful of the ones I've encountered. 

I'm not sure what the next 43 years hold, if I am given them. But I'm so incredibly grateful for those little times along the way that were always big to me. 

Happiness is a Pair of Ski Boots

Yesterday I got some custom ski boots. Y'all after skiing for 30 years with wide feet, a high instep, and bowed legs, the sport is getting a little uncomfortable - well, unbearably uncomfortable. As we age, our body just bends, and things don't work like they used to. So, being able to only ski one or two runs without your feet going absolutely numb is a very hefty price to pay. After slapping down the lift ticket, rentals, transportation to the resort, ski gear, etc., I'm officially deeper than broke, so we really need to get the most time we can out of this venture. That being said, our whole family loves to participate, so investing in something like ski boots seems a little justified in my mind, as terrible as that sounds.

So off we went to the sports store where, omg yes, everything is on sale! Like big sale. And the ones we got are nothing short of amazing. They adjusted them to the way I stand, the tech geared them up so that I can position myself correctly on the skis in my all powerful bow-legged glory. They are even are HEATED, and I am in heaven.

And I feel like, so totally guilty. But so incredibly grateful.

So after basking in the guilt of the investment, this morning, Zac and I went to our favorite church in South Lake Tahoe. It's led by Mauricio Hertado, and if you ever come this way, please make sure to attend one of his masses. We are moved to tears every. single. time. And today was no different. One of my most favorite passages was the Gospel today - The Beatitudes.

“Blessed are you who are poor,
for the kingdom of God is yours.

Blessed are you who are now hungry,
for you will be satisfied.

Blessed are you who are now weeping,
for you will laugh.

Blessed are you when people hate you,
and when they exclude and insult you,
and denounce your name as evil
on account of the Son of Man.

Rejoice and leap for joy on that day!

Behold, your reward will be great in heaven.
For their ancestors treated the prophets in the same way.
But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.
Woe to you who are filled now,
for you will be hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now,
for you will grieve and weep.
Woe to you when all speak well of you,
for their ancestors treated the false
prophets in this way.”

So now, I really want to return the ski boots. I can't wholly justify them anymore. I know, I know, I probably need to allow myself a few earthly indulgences, and I think God grants these to us from time to time. But I can't shake the guilt of buying something I "need" - which brings me to the "needing" standpoint of life.

Do I need these like a poverty-stricken individual needs water?
Absolutely not.

Do I need these so that we can expose our children to something pretty wonderful?
Maybe.

The guilt is tough. It really is. But I know that I will be able to help my family better with this luxury and set a good example of endurance. Maybe, I'm not really sure. But maybe this is a grace from God. Maybe He looked down and felt that my Flintstone feet had been through enough. I'll never own designer shoes - I can promise you that! My feet don't fit in them. They never will. You should see my bulged-out flats. lol But the ski boots hold these suckers together - yabba dabba doo. ;)

So, again, I am in awe and grateful for this little slice of Heaven in the form of well, comfortable feet.

And back to Father Mauricio, in the Beatitudes, he said that "Blessed" means "Happy." And his homily - gosh I wish I had it. But basically he said that it is in suffering that we become truly happy. And no, I won't fully find it in my ski boots. In ten years, I may be dusting them off - who knows, tomorrow I could become injured and never use them again. It's always a possibility. But the happiness I find in God will never be dusted off, even in injury. His love for me and blessings are unending, and the happiness I find in Him brings me true peace.

Wonder

Thinking back to Christmas vacation, I'm reminded of a moment we shared with our little family. You see, we live in an area that drowns out the stars with a ton of light pollution and trees, so seeing about 15 stars in the sky on any clear night can be a total treat. The big constellations show up, but that's about it. Lilly has an amazing little telescope that will get ya to the craters on the moon when we can see it, and it's remarkable. We watched the eclipse of the moon a few weeks ago with it - late at night, in the middle of the road, ushering cars to drive around us because we didn't want to lose our coordinates. Yay, Wares.

We love the skies, y'all. There's something that makes you feel tiny when you look out and see a spec of the universe in a splendor that just can't be touched. We've always appreciated it, thanks to my mama pointing it out. I remember even on our honeymoon sitting at a quaint little dining area at the end of a long pier over the water. We were in Jamaica in January - it was chilly, but nice. We could see stars from horizon to horizon with very little interference, and it was breathtaking. I won't ever forget it. So any chance I get to show something remotely like this to the kids, we stop.

So yes, Christmas vacation - we were driving back to South Lake Tahoe from Yosemite with the kids. We made it a day trip, so we'd been driving for a long time, and it was late at night. There was no moon visible, and the skies were as clear as could be. I knew this forecast ahead of time, so I had mentioned earlier that if we had a chance to pull over on the drive home, I'd like to show the kids the stars. And at this point in the evening, I really had forgotten the mention, but Zac didn't.

After driving all day, he had been looking for a place to pull over, and despite how weary I'm sure he was from being a super awesome road warrior, he found a spot at the top of a mountain and drove the car to the edge of the "scenic view" area. It was, just as I had hoped, a super clear night, so the kids were in for a treat. They tumbled out into the cold, everyone wrapped in blankets and jackets, and looked up. I don't know if I've ever seen a clearer shot of the Milky Way than on this night, but there it was - and it was right smack dab in the middle of the sky. Flat, straight up giant. And the kids were in awe, as they should be. And you know what, to top it off, at the very moment we found it, a shooting star grazed right down the middle. It was pretty surreal. And my family, crazy as we are - started freaking out in the best way possible. And it was worth the stop. We still talk about it. Thanks, Z. It's those little things that make me love ya.

But back to where we were, in awe of the beauty of God's creation. Now, of course, shooting stars as we've come to know them are certainly not sweet little twinkly stars trailing a lantern across the sky - scientifically they're basically meteorites or whatever bursting through the atmosphere in a fiery rage, and the stars - some are planets, some are satellites, and some are even long burnt out. And some are our favorite from when Joe was little, "A blinking planet!" Oh that was an epic discovery by the middlest. But all of this reality - It's kindof a buzzkill if you ask me. I prefer the ignorance is bliss approach to life. I'd totally prefer to envision the airplane as the blinking planet. It probably makes for a better story in a child's imagination.

There is something to be said of the, um, I don't know...wonder.

No, I'm not pushing out reality and science, I consider myself pretty educated and realistic. I just choose not to be sometimes, which is totally ok by my standards. But I am not choosing to be uneducated or force out reality - I'm just taking an artistic, road less traveled approach to this. I am basking in the beauty of what is created before us. What HE has created. And I fall in love with it over and over again.

I think The Creation is amazing. I think science is amazing. And the interweaving of what you see because of its divine entanglement humbles me to the core. So, on Valentine's Day, let's take a moment to show our love to Him by serving, helping, loving one another and noticing some small something that brings back the wonder of the stars from when we were still very, very small.

. 

Our Daily Bread

Our Daily Bread.

I always thought it meant food. Until today. I know, crazy to admit that at this age where I am that I'm not saying, I'm just coming to a new conclusion about that statement.

Maggie's First Communion retreat is on Saturday, and they are supposed to bring in a loaf of bread. They said it can be any type of bread. It's symbolic and will be blessed, so we are supposed to make sure we consume it or dispose of any leftovers properly, according to tradition.

It's kindof funny going to the grocery store within a few hours of the retreat. You'll see a slew of parents buying a single loaf of bread, and the puzzled looks on the clerks faces are priceless. They often remark at it even, wondering why everyone is coming in to buy a single loaf, and nothing else. But we like to bake ours.

LOL - ha ha, not from scratch. I would like to try that, but I simply don't have time. We use the frozen bread loaf that comes from the freezer section. It thaws, then rises, and we place it in the oven to bake. It's really the best bread ever. Of course, if you are a connoisseur, you will probably beg to differ. But I'm not talking about the taste of it. You see, after it comes out of the oven, it's all warm and wonderful. And when you smear a tiny bit of real butter on a slice of it, it melts into perfection. And it takes me back to a very much simpler time.

My grandmother made the same kind, and she had a wooden block that was carved out to hold a loaf of bread. All along the sides were slits to make sure you sliced it evenly. I'd sit at the olive green formica counter top on a swivel stool and watch her cut pieces of it to serve with Sunday dinner. And she'd always give me a slice. Now I don't like bread. Never did. I'm not sure why, but I just don't. But this bread, well, it's special. And like I said, takes me back to a time when just being a little girl was my most important job.

And it was a very important job that I took quite seriously. I loved my grandmothers with all I had. As I aged and moved away from home, I called them every chance I got - the relationship between a grandparent and a grandchild is pretty special, y'all. I learned so much from them. They were so sweet, patient, and stopped whatever it was they were doing to talk to me. I suppose the gift granted to them is the wisdom to have lived enough to realize the importance of family and time. Too bad we all don't get that sooner.

So I thought I'd celebrate their lives again - I wanted to honor them still. And this year, Maggie's bread was baked in Grandma Sammie's loaf pan. We will slice it in the little bread box that she passed down to me. And it will be blessed at the retreat where we pass on a legacy. For where in the world would we be without our grandmothers' prayers? I had two incredible examples of faith, and I do realize the treasure they gave to me, to our whole family, in this. Those little eyes watched you, sweet grandmothers, thank you so much for lending your ears to listen and for showing us your ways that gently guided us along.

And I realize that Our Daily Bread is more than just food. Today I see it as the Daily Grind. Those challenging moments that make us better and feed our souls. How special is the loaf that we had to wait for, baked with love in our own kitchen. The tough parts weren't so tough after all.

After all, the bread is delicious.

And then there were two

Two. Two in high school. How can this be? Weren't we just rocking you to sleep? (or not to sleep, that is the question.) The first one's orientation was definitely an arrow through the heart - this awful realization that they are about to experience what seemed pretty fresh on my mind pierced deeply. Although my high school days are far behind me, I still feel like I'm there. But I'm like, way not there. And how many more tuck ins are left? Let's not even go there. I'm not ready at all.

So I sat with Joe during the "Electives Night" at the local high school - it was filled with parents & kids like us. Everyone jam-packed into the cafeteria, sampling all of the fun stuff the school has to offer. There were food offerings from the language clubs, a drone flying above the JrROTC booth, moms greeting other moms, and me - trying to place names with faces I sort of recognized from when the children were in elementary school together. People change a lot in 4-5 years, especially kids. So I put on my baseball cap & just kindof moseyed through the crowd and ended up in the dark auditorium where the administration tells ya how it's done.

Joe & I sat on the very last row. He picked it. And when the first speaker came out, Joe flashed "SOS" in morse code with the light on his cellphone. I hurriedly covered it up, but at the same time, that old familiar high school smirk reappeared beneath my aged skin. It was kindof funny. Totally disrespectful, but I admit, I felt the same way, buddy. How did we get here, and can somebody please save us? This ride we're on is spinning out of control.

But we've got it. After all, I've set a tracker on your cellphones, kids. And if you end up anywhere you're not supposed to be, Mama Bear's going in. And that even means if the tracker is turned off. I WILL find you. And it won't be a pretty sight. At least when we get home. Your friends don't need to see my angry elf side.

You'll probably be embarrassed of me. And that's ok. It's normal. You'll probably think that I'm too strict, and we'll go back & forth about privileges that other kids have that you don't. That's ok, too. And one day, you'll thank me just like I thanked my mom, and just like she thanked her mom, and so on. You'll mess up. You're supposed to. You'll feel unloved, unpopular, unworthy, and someone will most certainly break your heart. We all felt that way. It's part of the struggle that makes us better people. I don't want to see you go through it, but you probably will. Know this:

I was sitting in one of those parent conferences at church and heard one of the leaders say something I won't forget. She told her children "that there is nothing that you can do that I won't love you through, and God won't get you through." Amen, sista. It's the truest.

So our babies, (yes, you always will be - get used to it) know that at home, you will feel loved, popular, & worthy, and we will never break your heart. At home, you will always be safe, and I will rock you as long as you let me. At home, you will find that God is above all, and He's got this.

Good luck in high school, our brave middle child. It's lucky to have you (and your big sister, who I know always has your back.)