Hey, You Guys!

Um. Can I just ask a question?

What the heck is wrong with Casting Directors these days?

I'm just wondering which genius decided that these guys looked even remotely like High Schoolers.

Especially the rotund guy in the hat and the guy in the lederhosen.

Argh.

These are the questions that keep me up at night.
Sad.

I'm all thrifty and stuff.

One of my favorite things to do is to flip through the pages of Home Decor magazines and dream. I love this magazine. Everything in it is pretty, pretty, pretty.


I'm also obsessed with reading Home Decor Blogs.
This chick is so gifted it's not even funny. I want a house like hers when I grow up.

Another fun blog to read is Thrifty Decor Chick. Sarah is so funny and - for lack of a better word - thrifty. She seems to have lots of luck finding hidden gems at garage sales and Goodwill and transforming them into something lovely for her home. So, with Sarah and her amazing good luck in mind, I decided to go for it.

I went to Goodwill last week.

I'll be honest with you, it kinda creeped me out.
From the minute I walked in, I felt like my skin was crawling with cooties.

I didn't have any luck finding something cute to paint, repurpose or decoupage. I did, however, find not one, not two, but THREE of these creepy things:

YIKES.

Just remembering it gives me the willies.
Sincerely.

There was also an unexplainable...odor.
Just a random odor.
A Random, freaky odor.

As I forced myself to feign nonchalant perusal, the thought crossed my mind, "Whoa. Glad I'm not pregnant. This could be ugly."

And it almost did when I saw the BRAS for sale.
What the What?!?

I struggled internally with my snobbery for a little bit, but eventually came to the realization that Goodwill just isn't my thing.
If I wasn't sure about it before, I definitely am now.
Definitely.

After my Goodwill...experience... I decided to try another route: Estate Sales.

My friend Maribeth is an Estate Sale veteran. She's been going to Estate Sales since she was a little girl with her thrifty Momma. She introduced me to a website you can go to called www.estatesales.net that lists Estate Sales in your area with pictures.

The pictures are - in my estimation- completely vital.

I've found that Estate Sales can be a little icky too, so looking at the pictures ahead of time helps in determining if a particular one will be a little too icky.

Estate Sales have turned out to be much kinder to me than Goodwill.

Last month I found this:

and this for Avery's room:

I also found this:

and decided to do this:

and hope to make it look like this:

or this:

I also scored a fun Ball jar at an antique store and added some vintage spools of thread that I found at an Estate Sale this month:

And who can resist the sweetest little milk glass lamp for Avery's room? Not me.

My favorite find is this adorable antique rocking chair that I got for $30.
Shut it.

Now I just have to decide to paint or not to paint. What do you think?

My feelings about Estate Sales are mixed. I find them completely fascinating but a little sad as well. It's weird to wander through a stranger's house and dig through their worldly possessions.

You can learn a lot about someone by looking at the stuff they left behind.
I've seen old photographs, wedding dresses, love notes and report cards for sale at Estate Sales.
Personal stuff.
Stuff that once upon a time, someone really cared about.
Stuff that was treasured and saved for years before being sold to strangers for pennies.

I find myself wanting to buy all the old photographs just to rescue them...'cause somebody needs to care about little Suzy's first haircut.

If you're a Christian, it's impossible to go to an Estate Sale and not consider the finality of life. It reminds you that all the stuff you treasure is just...stuff. It's not what really matters and it won't go with you when you leave this earth. One day, someone's going to be haggling over all that stuff that you valued.

And you won't even care.

Just a thought, though: you might want to have somebody trash the medical seats for you before you go, cause evidently, even Goodwill doesn't need any more of those.

Here's the Rundown -
Estate Sales: yes
Garage Sales: maybe
Consignment Sales: sure
Ebay: absolutely
Goodwill: Nope. No way. No how.

freakin out

So am I the only person in America NOT worried about The Swine Flu?

I'm starting to think maybe I should join in the hysteria.

It's all over the media: radio, news, papers, magazines.
It's weaseled it's way into blog posts and wriggled into a Facebook Status or two.

Even the stone-faced librarian that checked us out today had it on the brain.

This is the book I innocently checked out for Avery.

Upon reading the title, Librarian Lady said, "How appropriate given what's going on in the world."

What the what?!?
Lady, it's just a cute kid's book.
*Sigh*

So - here's the deal: I'm making a stand.
I'm refusing to buy into the hype.

I won't be bullied into fear by news anchors and journalists.
I will not allow myself to worry about the economy.
I will not stress about the value of my house or my 401K.
I will not spread messages of doom and gloom.
I won't be fearful of my kid getting Autism from vaccines.
I will not worry that my burger contains Mad Cow Disease.
I will not rush to buy a face mask at Walgreens when someone sneezes in my direction.
I won't carry around a backpack filled with water bottles and dehydrated food.
I won't hide my kids in an underground bunker.
I will not obsess over the the Bird Flu, Pig Flu, or any other kind of Flu.
I won't worry that every bee is a Killer Bee.
I will not worry.
I will NOT be afraid.
I just won't.

Instead --
I will save money, not hoard it.
I will give money generously, and not worry about how I'm going to get more.
I will play in the yard with my kids.
I will pray for my President instead of trashing him.
I will shake hands with people fearlessly.

AND while I'm at it--
I will go on vacation with my family.
I will enjoy the sunny weather and the sand in my toes.
I will love on my babies. and cover them with kisses.
and sunblock.
I won't worry about UV rays. Or skin cancer. Or even wrinkles.
I'll even try to not worry about the fish swimmin' around in the water I'm wading in.
That's how serious I am, people.

The good news is that the sky isn't going to fall today, but if it does, I know the creator of the sky.
He's got everything under control.
I'm so glad.
So, so, glad.

Matthew 6:30-33 (The Message)
"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

Philippians 4:6-7 (The Message)
Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.

Psalm 46:1-3 (The Message)
God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him.
We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom,
courageous in seastorm and earthquake,
Before the rush and roar of oceans,
the tremors that shift mountains.
Jacob-wrestling God fights for us,
God-of-Angel-Armies protects us.

Isaiah 41:8-10 (The Message)
"But you, Israel, are my servant.
You're Jacob, my first choice, descendants of my good friend Abraham.
I pulled you in from all over the world,
called you in from every dark corner of the earth,
Telling you, 'You're my servant, serving on my side.
I've picked you. I haven't dropped you.'
Don't panic. I'm with you.
There's no need to fear for I'm your God.
I'll give you strength. I'll help you.
I'll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you.

on my heart today

Daisy Dukes and PK's

Oh... These women make my heart just hurt.

These women were once little girls in frilly socks and Sunday dresses...
They were silly little girls who ran in and out of the church pews while they waited for Daddy on Sunday morning.
Their family had to take cheesy church directory photos.
They ate a million and one different kids of potato salad at pot-luck lunches and memorized Bible verses in Sunday School.
They could sing all the words to "Zachaeus Was a Wee Little Man" and knew the hand motions to "Pharaoh, Pharaoh".

Now, instead of singing about doing the "dead man's float", they sing songs about "kissing girls".
Instead of frilly socks, they wear Daisy Dukes.
Instead of church directory pictures, they pose for men's magazines.

Once upon a time, these women were full of promise. Full of hope.
They were given amazing gifts that were meant to be used to glorify God.

Once upon a time, these girls were just like my little Avery. They were Pastor's Kids.

Every time I see one of these women on a magazine cover, or hear one of their songs on the radio, my heart clenches up a little bit.
...Then I start to think
...Thinking that soon leads to worrying
...Worrying that VERY quickly leads to fear. Overwhelming, freak-out fear.
...Fear that causes me to pray. Hard. Because that's all I know to do.

That fear is enough to make me want to keep my sweet little ones in a plastic bubble.
It's enough to seriously consider building a very large fort or tower to hide them in. Forever.

I never imagined that I would be a Pastor's wife.
In fact, it was always something that was VERY far from my mind.

When David and I became engaged, I happily accepted my role as supporter and encourager to David.
I accepted my role as his wife.

Since David felt God's calling to be a Pastor, I was called to be a Pastor's Wife.
If David had been called to be a Computer Programmer or a Doctor, I would be called to be a Computer Programmer's wife or a Doctor's wife.
I made a choice to be a Pastor's Wife the moment that I chose to marry the man that God chose for me.

That being said, I knew what I was getting into when I chose to marry David.
I knew that being a Pastor's wife would be challenging.
It would be hard.
It would mean sacrificing and living life under a microscope at times.
I knew all of that, and I accepted it.
I had life's experiences and a relationship with Christ to guide me through my decision.

Avery and Charlie didn't choose to be Pastor's Kids. They just are.
They don't have life's experiences to help them rationalize and understand their role as PK's.
They have to figure out the whole ministry thing as they grow up.

I worry that as they grow older, they will also grow to resent sacrificing and living life under a microscope.
I worry that the pressures of performance and expectations will weigh too heavily on them and cause them to resent not having a choice about being a PK.

Avery and Charlie are God's gracious, precious, amazing gift to David and me.
He didn't make a mistake.
Although many pastor's kids have chosen a path that leads away from Christ, it doesn't mean that my kids have to.
But they might.
Because they have free will.

Ultimately, I can't make their choices for them.
It's my job to teach my kids what God's love looks like on a daily basis and let God take care of the rest.

It's really easy to write that, but not so easy to actually live it out.
Real life means feeling impatient, tired, cranky, annoyed, and exhausted.
Real life means that living out God's love isn't always easy.
I'm afraid that God's going to have to pick up the slack for my shortcomings.
A lot.

If I could give my kids just one little pearl of wisdom for them to hold in their hearts as they grow, it would be that they understand church is just a place full of imperfect people. Imperfect people who need a perfect God.

I want them to understand that God's love for His children is totally unconditional. I hope that they experience the grace that He gives after they mess up and make crazy choices, and the warmth that awaits them in His loving arms.

I hope that for Jessica and Katy too.

seeing things differently

Today, as I was washing dishes and listening to a Bethany Dillon CD, I had one of those moments that make you look at life just a little differently.

It was this song: a song about the faithfulness of God.

I Believe In You (Imagination Album Version) - Bethany Dillon


I've heard this song a million times, but for some reason - today it hit me that the lyrics are what I want my children to know (I mean really KNOW) that their mom feels about them.

I've thought a lot about what it means to love unconditionally since being married to David. He's really good at loving me unconditionally. I'm really not so good at it. Marriage has been a big part of my training in the School of Life.

What I've learned is that loving someone unconditionally can be really hard at times. Real love means loving regardless of how you "feel". Real love can be messy and frustrating - and it definitely means dying to yourself - which if we're being honest here, is H.A.R.D. and totally sucks.

Really loving someone is a choice...one with wonderful, beautiful rewards.

Now that I'm a mom, real love takes on a whole new meaning for me. Two little lives are counting on ME to show them what real love means. They are counting on me to communicate the love of Christ with them.

How do you even come close to loving like our Heavenly Father does? The task can seem mind-blowing and totally daunting if you really stop to think about it.

I don't know much, but I do know that a step in the right direction is to just tell them. Tell them over and over and over and over. Tell them that you love them no matter what they do or how they act. Tell them that you believe in them. Tell them that they can never do anything to make you love them more than you already do - and never do anything that will make you love them less. Ever.

I hope that I can do that. I pray that I will do that.

As you trudge through your day today, I hope that this song inspires you a little too.

biggest loser phenomenon

David and I are totally addicted to The Biggest Loser. We watch every season.

I love Bob and Gillian.
I love the drama.
I love the suspense.
I love the emotion.
I love watching the Incredible Shrinking People every week.

Most of all, I love to eat while I watch the show.

I can't explain it.
I can't stop it.
I can't help it.
Is it because the poor contestants can't eat? Am I sympathy eating? Am I unintentionally mocking them? Who knows.
What I do know is The Biggest Loser makes me HUNGRY.

The Biggest Loser = The Munchies.

Somehow, I don't think that's what the show's producers intended...

you may be addicted to your cell phone if:

This is how your child impersonates her mommy...

Your idea of a cute halloween costume is this...


OR
You can't tear yourself away long enough to use the restroom without it.

What's with that?
I went to the restroom at the mall the other night and a lady a few stalls down from me was just chattin' it up on her cell phone while USING the facility.

Sadly, this is not the first time I've witnessed this social phenomenon. I'm all about being a multi-tasking mommy, but come ON. That kind of multi-tasking is just plain G-R-O-S-S.

Admittedly, I don't spend much time in the restroom by myself these days (two year olds are intensely interested in watching their mommies do anything and everything. literally. ). But - even this privacy-deprived-multi-tasking mommy draws the line at chatting away with my friends while using the restroom. If I get the chance to use the restroom in peace, I'm going to take full advantage.

I guess I should explain that the following picture doesn't really go with my post, but when I was searching for pictures on Google, I found him and thought, "I must have him. He's fabulous." Because he is.

jesus is my friend

David and the band have been working really hard on the set list for this Sunday. We shot some video of them practicing their newest song. It's pretty great - If I do say so myself.

By the way, Avery loves this song. She made me play it over and over again. Those of you with small children: beware! You may be watching this more than once...

kidz bop creepiness

So I was watching Yo! Gabba! Gabba! with Avery the other day (amazing, brain-stimulating television, by the way) and a commercial for Kidz Bop came on.

Have you seen these commercials?



My reaction as it occured in the moments after viewing the commercial:
eye-rolling, followed by a chuckle, followed by complete bewilderment, followed by a little vomit in the mouth.

At first, I thought I was watching some sort of joke. It was almost funny: a bunch of elementary-aged children dancing around and singing about "being in love", "breaking up", and "partying like a rockstar". WHAT???? That's just silly.

When it really hit me that the commercial was NOT a joke, I felt a little creeped out. Make that A LOT creeped out.

I'm not trying to go all Janet Parshall or Vicky Courtney on you ('cause, Girl, I can't EVEN come close to being in the same ballpark with those ladies)... but I AM going to ask a question or two:

Why can't our sweet little girls and boys stay... little?
Why the rush to push them into a world that is all too ready to swallow them whole?

It makes me so sad. It makes me want to sweep up my innocent little one and keep her in a bubble forever.

I'm pretty sure that a young boy or girl has no clue about the meaning behind many of those lyrics, but does that make it OK for them to sing them anyway?

For that matter, why is it considered cute or clever to buy items of clothing for small children that say things like, "spoiled", "diva", or "trouble-maker"? I don't know many Christian parents who truly desire to raise a "diva" or "trouble-maker", so why are we buying clothing that labels them that way?

When we parents purchase these items for our little ones, aren't we just teaching them that it's cute, funny, and even acceptable to be "spoiled", a "diva", or a "trouble-maker"?

It makes me realize that what we do as parents really matters. I mean REALLY matters. Just something to think about...

made to worship

As I was watching the thousands of people who had traveled untold distances to attend the Democratic National Convention last week, I was struck with the truth of scripture: People were created to worship.

We long for it, we need it, we have an ocean-sized void in our soul that cries out for it.

In our attempt to fill that void, we easily find ourselves worshipping anything... anyone.

It's a truth that I've heard in countless sermons before, one that I've accepted and claim to understand. But it's one thing to believe a truth as fact, and quite another to feel the truth in your bones.

For a brief moment I was struck with the flesh-and-blood reality of scriptural truth. I felt it. I really got it.

As I watched the camera slowly pan from whole of the crowd to specific individuals in the crowd, I saw something. I saw faces full of hope and longing. People intently listening to someone they believed could offer them a better life. People fervently cheering with joy and excitement. People literally weeping with emotion.

I realized that I was watching people who needed a savior. People in need of The True Savior.

On one hand, I felt like I was seeing a tiny glimpse of what Heaven must be like: untold numbers of people gathered together in unity to worship and praise our Creator. I got excited as I thought how overwhelming and beautiful Heaven must be. How freeing and emotional it must feel to corporately worship the One we were created to worship. The wholeness and completeness of being who we were designed to be must be nothing short of awesome.

Then I felt really sad. Sad because all that love - all that worship that I was watching - was so misplaced. I was watching thousands of people fill their God-shaped void with a paltry substitute for the real thing.

Instead of worshipping the only One who can offer true hope, all those people were offering their praise and adoration to... a man. Just a man.

The thing is - I do it too. I fill my God-shaped void every day with things and people that always leave me feeling empty. I don't want to worship money or other things and ideas that don't last, but I do it... Without thinking.

It was definitely humbling and eye-opening.

Just a thought...

Deep Thoughts...

Going to sleep has become quite an ordeal for me. Pregnancy has this strange way of totally exhausting me, yet making it nearly impossible for me to fall asleep easily. As a result, I have put David through a myriad of random tasks in an effort to help me fall sleep... my happiest discovery is the miracle of Breathe Right Nasal strips. My precious husband... although incredibly handsome and wonderfully brilliant (how do you like that not-so-subtle attempt at keeping him from being mad at me for posting this???) has a bit of a snoring problem. Unfortunately, HE has no problem going right to sleep the moment his head hits the pillow -- which leaves me sitting in the darkness (sighing loudly and poking him every 5 minutes) getting more and more frustrated by the second. Since our Breathe Right discovery, David's snoring has subsided. Now I sit in the darkness and sigh and fume over my 80 pound boxer and HIS snoring problem. Which led me to the deep thought that I have been having every night since the onset of this pregnancy: Why don't they make Breathe Right Strips for dogs????