Memorial Box Monday on Tuesday...Again

My last thought before I fell asleep last night was Lord, help me to remember a really good story... even though tomorrow's Tuesday. This morning I thought of this one and it's a really special one to me. If I had to pick something to represent this story I'd pick something desert-y. Like maybe a cactus.

When Mark and I were first married we bought a house in my hometown. It was pretty far out in the boonies, so we could afford to buy a house there. At the same time Mark took a job in Anaheim - about 60 miles away from our house. Sixty miles is a lot no matter where you live, but when you live in California it makes for one hellish commute. Mark was driving 1 1/2 to 2 hours EACH WAY to get to work. If he didn't leave our house between 4:00 and 4:30 am he'd get stuck in traffic and his commute would stretch to 2 1/2 to 3 hours. Our first year and a half of marriage saw us going to bed before 8 pm most nights. Worse than that was the constant stress on Mark. That commute was really wearing on him and we knew we needed to do something different.

We'd been trying to get to Durango ever since we got married. Mark had known since his grandparents retired there when he was 10 that he wanted to live there some day. In fact, when we started seriously dating, he brought me to Durango and basically said, "I hope you like it here because I'll be living here some day (with or without you)." I appreciated his honesty - seriously, there's enough about marriage that you don't know you're "getting into" when you get married. At least I knew that part up front! The truth was, when I visited, I really did love it here. It's quirky, homey, and totally mall-free, but I love it!

Anyhow, by the time we entered the second year of Mark's awful commute, we were desperate to make a change. I had left a very unhealthy job situation and hadn't found a new job yet. We thought we'd found a workable solution. There was a satellite office for the company he worked for in Albuquerque. He would interview with them, get a transfer and we'd figure out a way to get to Durango from there. We were all set in our minds to move to Albuquerque. Now, don't get me wrong, there are some nice places in ABQ. But at that time it had one of the highest crime rates in the country. It also lead the country in car jackings, car thefts and murder. We were so desperate to do SOMETHING, we were willing to overlook those minor issues.

Well, we tried and tried. We went out and interviewed, looked at houses, made calls and followed up on every avenue. We tried for about 8 months and we just couldn't figure out what the hold up was! Finally one day I got online looking for a job. I prayed quietly, Lord, if we aren't meant to move to ABQ, please just let me help my husband have a better quality of life! Instead of clicking to ABQ jobs, I selected jobs near Anaheim.

Within a week I had interviewed at a temp agency, been matched with a prospective employer, interviewed with that company and received a job offer. Within. A. Week. We quickly placed our house on the market and it sold in just over a month (a miracle story for another time!). Before we knew it, we were living in the last place I ever thought I'd live. Newport Beach (see above). I remember in the beginning thinking Really Lord? Really? You're going to put us HERE? In the most self-involved, image conscious, materialistic culture ever? Really!?!

I wouldn't trade the time we had in the OC for anything. Ever. Even though it meant putting off our dream of Durango for a couple of years longer, the Lord sure knew what he was doing. We reconnected with several old friends from college who had all ended up in the same area. We joined their life group (small group) and their church.

To this day, those people in our life group are some of our dearest, closest friends (that's you, Cody & Amy, Kevin & Rechelle, Cindy, Alice, Josh, Noah etc.). The church we were all a part of was specifically called to equip and send ministers to the places that they were called to minister (to the right is a picture of one of the art pieces in the church hat I loved). When the time came for us to move, our life group literally prayed us there. I still miss being physically close to them, but I know that we have a bond in the Spirit.

In the end, of course, Mark's commute went down to 20 minutes and we enjoyed some of the quality-of-life perks that we had convinced ourselves we'd get in ABQ. But the Lord had so much more in store for us than that! We probably could have eventually made the ABQ plan happen in our own strength, but we sure would have missed out on God's best for us. In the end, it's true what it says in 2 Samuel "To obey is better than sacrifice."

Whole Lotta Shakin'

As promised, I tried to get photos of this weekend of more cute outfits from Grandma. I love the little top and sweat pants ensemble she had on. I probably took a good 200 pictures of it, but man alive, this kid won't sit still!! I managed to get a few clear ones and a few of her smiling. But not too many were both clear AND smiley. Never the less, heeeeeere's Norah!

That's a five pound kettle bell that my mom uses as a door stop. And yes, Norah can lift it. Just not with her favorite new toy the stress ball cow in her other hand.

In this one the camera almost managed to get her face in focus while she was dancing with the cow.

This one was between kissing the cow and gnawing on it's leg. Oh yeah, she's teething... AGAIN!

I only got photos of the one outfit on my camera. But once my friend Jan e-mails me the stunning images she captured at our church's barn party this weekend, there will be another post for sure. So stay tuned! All three of you!!

Thankful Thursday - Grandma and Great Weather

Today I'm most thankful for two things. I'm thankful for the amazing weather we're having. I'm always sad to say goodbye to summer, but there's something about the chill in the morning air and the crisp, clear days that really makes me feel grateful that we live here. The leaves are about 75% turned. Everywhere we look there's a golden glow. Just in the past few days the trees have started letting them go in little showers. I love to watch them spin and flutter to the ground. We went out to go to work yesterday morning and Norah was a little confused by all the new leafy toys laying in the driveway for her to play with.

That leads me to my second Thankful Thursday item. Grandma! The weather changed relatively quickly this year - or maybe I was just in denial about Summer being over. Anyhoo, I bought a few long sleeved shirts and a puffy vest for Norah (picture of that to come, so cute!!). But on the whole, I wasn't super prepared to bundle my tiny person up yet. Then came a little box from Grandma in California. I am forever amazed at how much my mom-in-law can fit in a little box. There were sweatshirts, sweatpants, long sleeved tops, leggings and even a pair of shoes! Everything was mix and match so, in total there were probably 30 new outfits in there. My girl is decked OUT thanks to Grandma!!

I had planned to get photos of Norah modeling all of her snazzy new duds this weekend but as usual, the time got away from me. So we'll do it piece-meal whenever she's got on a new item. In the pictures in this post she's wearing a onesie from Grandma (I'm pretty sure it says "Grandma's Angel" on it). She's also styling a sweater I got at a local church consignment sale and a pair of jeans from a thrift store. Top it off with a pair of shiny new white tennies (that managed to stay white for that WHOLE day!) and, of course, our girl doesn't go anywhere without an accessory. And by that I mean her snack cup.

Thanks Grandma!!

Things that make you say, "Yesssss!"

On Sunday morning I was dutifully at my station checking the kiddos in with our new child labeling system (seriously, they all get labeled with a little sticker). My friend Jan came in with her adorable twin boys and said the four words every woman wants to hear, "Are you losing weight?" I responded that I'm not sure about the weight thing but I was wearing jeans that I hadn't worn since I was about six months pregnant with Norah. I pointed out that I strategically chose a loose fitting blouse to hide the muffin top area. My sweet, sweet friend responded, "Well they're not tight where I'm lookin'!" Doesn't that just melt your heart!?!

We're talking about generosity at our church for the next few weeks. I think some times the thing I'm least generous with is praise and encouragement. So I just wanted to give a little shout out to a friend who made my day. Jan's little comment was enough to motivate me to get up early (5am!) for the gym the last two days. So here's to generous compliments!

Memorial Box Monday - The French Fry Lesson

A couple of months ago at church they had some mini testimonies from a few of the elders of the church about giving. Ever since then I've been thinking about sharing this story. I'm excited that I'm finally getting to put this down in words, especially since just yesterday we started a sermon series on generosity.

I could add multiple items to my memorial box (when I finally find one) to represent specific instances when the Lord has come through for us financially. I could tell tons of stories about our family being provided for (monetarily and otherwise) in ways that were nothing short of supernatural. But if I had to choose one item that symbolized the core principal behind all of those stories, it would be a little plastic french fry (a real one would get pretty gross after a while). It all goes back to a lesson my dad taught me many, many times throughout my childhood. It was a lesson I didn't truly learn until just a few years ago. The story goes something like this:

When I was growing up, my family was pretty solidly middle class but my parents were, shall we say, frugal. Mom's motto is still, "Cheap is good, free is better." Anyway, we didn't eat out much. But they were both in the church choir, and on choir practice night we just couldn't go home for dinner and make it to church on time. So once a week we went our favorite fast food restaurant. We'll call it Mickey Dee's.

My little brother and I loved choir practice night! Not only did it mean a rare chance to eat out, it meant that we each got our very own Cheerful Box. Now, I don't consider myself old (although I'm currently having a staring contest with 30 and I have a sinking feeling that I'm going to blink sometime late next year), but back in my day there were no such things as "healthy options" in your Cheerful Box. In fact, this was still during the era when Mickey Dee put his sandwiches in styrofoam boxes. But I digress. To my brother and me the Cheerful Box meant so very many sources of joy to choose from. There was the sandwich or processed chicken product of our choice, the cheap licensed character toy and my personal favorite: the french fries!

The meal typically went the same. I hemmed and hawed about which main dish I wanted and whether or not it would have cheese on it. I'd ooh and aah over the awesome new toy. Then about halfway through the meal, Dad would ask if he could share some of my fries. This was the critical moment. I learned right away that saying, "No" made no difference. If I said no, Dad would simply "share" nearly all of my french fries right out from under my little nose and then invite me to buy as many as I wanted with all the money I had in my pockets. I tried all sorts of tricks to keep from sharing. I'd try to eat them all at the beginning of the meal - Dad was too quick for that. I'd try hiding them under the lip of my tray - Dad was too clever for that. I'd try agreeing to share and actually handing over the amount of fries I felt I could spare - Dad always thought I could spare a bit more. Eventually, week after week, month after month, I gave up hoarding, hiding and stockpiling. It took Dad a while but he helped me learn that it wasn't such a horrible thing to share my french fries.

So I'm sure most of you (all three of you who read this) are smarter than me and you're already getting the lesson. But for my own sake, I want to expound a bit. The french fry lesson changed my behavior long before my tiny insect brain realized the spiritual implications. Seriously, I didn't actually get the relevance until I was in my mid twenties. Anyway, here it is...

Although we weren't wealthy, and my parents weren't super spendy, I'm fairly confident that if he'd wanted some, Dad could have headed out to his car, gathered the change from his cup holders and bought himself his own fries. Dad didn't so much want my fries as he wanted to develop an attitude in me. First, when I refused to share he helped me remember where the fries came from. The dad giveth and the dad taketh away. Then, when I did finally (and begrudgingly) learn to share, Dad helped me to see that he was always going to provide for me. He maybe wouldn't give me all the fries I wanted but certainly I had more than I needed. What he was really doing was try to develop a certain attitude in me and my brother about hoarding versus sharing.

Even though it took me a while to apply it to other areas of my life, I hope it's a lesson that stuck. Eventually we became the kind of kids who tried to meet needs when we saw them. My brother would share his snack bar credits with friends whose moms forgot to pack them a snack. I'd share the tickets I won at those silly arcade games with the kid at the party who had her quarter eaten by the broken machine. I hope that now, on a larger scale, I always remember that none of my "hard earned stuff" is really mine. All that I have, my resources, my time, my talents is from the One who "gives life and breath and everything else"! It's much easier to give freely when I remember that everything I'm giving isn't really mine anyway.

I think this is a lesson that a lot of believers don't learn - or at least misunderstand. They either give (not just money) because they feel they have to or because they think they'll be rewarded for it. I think that the latter belief causes all sorts of miscommunication, misunderstanding and resentment between non-believers and the church. The church comes off as offering prosperity in exchange for money.

What the French Fry lesson really taught me was this: God doesn't need our money any more than Dad needed my fries. What he wants, what he desperately wants, what he knows will bring our relationship with him to a whole new level, is for his children to love him more than they love their stuff.

Thankful Thursday

Last Sunday our pastor told us that we're going to be starting a sermon series on sacrificial living based on Philippians. Part of me is really excited about it. Another part of me is apprehensive. If I know our pastor (and I do, a little) he's not going to be content with a "God loves everyone and we should be loving too so go out and do something nice for your community" sort of sermon series on sacrificial living. I'm pretty sure he's going to challenge the way we think about how we give of our resources - time, money, relationships, talents, all of it - and he's going to challenge us to act on our changed thinking (gulp). I'm truly thankful to have a pastor who challenges us and all kidding aside, I'm really looking forward to starting this series.

Looking forward to this series has also gotten me thinking about some lessons that I've learned about giving. I've especially been remembering an object lesson that my dad taught me as a child. The older I get, the more thankful I am for this particular lesson. With this lesson my dad really purposed to help me understand God's heart for his children in regards to giving. It's definitely something I want for us to pass on to Norah as well. I can't wait to write about it! I've taken a cue from my friend (and pastor's wife) Linn and decided to make you (all three of you who read this) wait until Memorial Box Monday to get the whole story. To get you coming back to read it I'll just say this: the story involves french fries. Stay tuned for more!

We Live Here!

I took the below photo on my camera phone out the window on our drive home from work. If you look to the left of the main rainbow, you can see that it's actually a double rainbow. That's right suckas, I live here! So who has dibs on the next visit? :-)