It's great to stay up late!

"...good morning, good morning to you!"
Yeah, I love Singing in the Rain. I often wake up my kids up singing that...and they usually groan and beg for five more minutes. Unless it's Jack...he just wants to wake up to a tickle!

If, however, any of them tried that on me...I would shout to kill! I wake up at O'Dark O'Clock just to avoid having to be pleasant with anyone until after my coffee. I am a bear disturbed from hibernation when I awake in the mornings at 4:50am...but I am bear after a nap too...

"Just give me five minutes with my coffee to wake up and then Mommy will answer why Dora and Boots won't play with Diego. I promise."

School has been back in session for a week already and I have gotten so much done! Yes, I have made meals, washed towels, scrubbed kitchen floors...and I've watched Fox News...and I have played Third Day at full tilt while the dog covers his ears in agony.

Oh and my prayer life since they went to school...wow. Yeah, wow...as in "are ya' gonna' get around to talking to Me, Mair? Or are you just gonna' try and figure this all out on your own?"

I was in the middle of a "I got it!" mode when I showed up in the living room with my Savior yesterday.

My plea?

"What? What do You want me to do? Where do You want me? How can I get this done with out You? I am going to mess this up if I am doing it alone!"

He said...nothing. He let me rant. Can you imagine not talking with your spouse for a week or two and then yelling at him for not talking to you? Yeah, me too. That is who I have been of late.

If you haven't read "God's Smuggler" you must. It's the story of Brother Andrew who was able to get the Word behind the Iron Curtain and now gets he smuggles it into Muslim countries as well.

We all love a good testimony but that is not what has struck me to the core while reading this. It's the communication Brother Andrew has with our God....and that got me to yelling.

"I want to hear from You! I want to hear You like Brother Andrew or David Wilkerson or that 'Cops and God' guy! I want that all the time. Not just sometimes, but daily. I want to hear, 'This is the way, walk in it.' from YOU! How am I going to work us out of debt or get anything done or start this new book, if I can't hear YOU?"

"Then show up." He said.

I cried.

Yeah, we all want to "hear" from God but then we get so busy in our chaotic lives that we forget how to hear.

Yesterday, He called me to lay it all down. To give back every good and perfect gift back to Him...you see when we do, He can bless it, and give it back again. Kind of a "This is my offering" thing.

Lets say you have the chance to be debt free. You work for years and years, save a few nickles and get the chance to live life with just a mortgage and even that is on the list of things to get rid of. Lets say, you start to tackle it all and start to get overwhelmed. Lets say you start to think a new kitchen, roof, driveway, furniture, some make up, a purse, a balcony, a trip~a big one, maybe a new car...all starts to sound plausible after a year of deprivation.

Then lets say, you read what Brother Andrew has to say about The Royal Way as it were. Would the King just leave His subjects to figure it all out with His bounty? Or do you think maybe He would show His kids how to be a good steward of all that He owns anyway? Yeah, me too...but only if you show up in His courts to ask for that guidance in the first place. Only if you give it back to Him...because after all, He is the owner of it all.

What if it wasn't just about a new refrigerator? What if this was true about your kids, your marriage, your time? What if you opened your hand and stopped holding so tightly and gave it all back to Him? What if you didn't stress yourself to the point of getting sick...just this one time?

I asked Him to show me how to handle the money, He did. It all went back to the fact that it is His in the first place.

Today, I plan to just show up and spend some time with Him. I have a feeling He is more then willing to show me a few more things. Chaos is never, ever from Him. He is after all a God of order.

9/12

I have memories of 9/11 just like everyone else. I don't know that they are any more extraordinary but rather they are probably extra ordinary. I live in NY, so of course, I lost people and have friends who survived...John watched the first plane fly over his head and later spent the day waiting for someone to rescue.

And now we are fighting about building an Islamic Center at Ground Zero...just like the Japanese wanted to build a Japanese Center at Pearl...you know the one...no wait, there isn't one. That's right. That whole WWII mess was way before the nation had evolved into what we are today. I forgot.

At the time of the attacks we didn't even have a computer to check out what was going on. How odd is that?

But what were you doing on 9/12?

I can't remember if John had to go back to work. I know he came home around 3am. I don't think the kids went to school that day. I know I didn't talk to my dad...he was mourning in a bar somewhere in The Bronx...he couldn't get over the bridge to his club in Inwood (the tip of Manhattan) because the bridges were still all closed. I know the kids watched Nickelodeon...and we kept the radio on all day...with no music playing.

We waited to find out if we needed to go to the city to volunteer...but by early morning, we knew...there was no one left alive to help.

The thing is we woke up on 9/12 in the greatest nation in the world. One that took a sucker punch from Islam. Why? Because they hate us. We will always be hated because, like it or not, we are a nation founded on Christian principles. And Jesus said we would be hated for it.

I can make some great arguments about freedom here...but I simply don't feel like it. 9/11 still makes me cry.

So 9/12 should give us hope...not because of how we woke up nine years ago, but because we woke up in the greatest nation in history. We are still free...and we have lived to fight another day. God...bless America, please? There is a remnant here who adores You.

Shadows of turning...

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." - James 1:17 (KJV)

We are in a season full of variableness and shadows of turning. Bills to pay, jobs to work, homework, football, swim, breakfast, lunch, dinner and two snacks a day...and all done in the shadow of change.

And yet, there is this overwhelming cry in our hearts of "what's next"? I have no blessed clue.
We waited a long time to be retired and be the grown ups...and I think our definition of "grown ups" has changed along with the season of life we are in.

Another retired cop told John at the wedding on SUNDAY, not SATURDAY, but SUNDAY, that "there is life after retirement...and that life is very good." I loved that.

Something that has yanked at my heart for awhile now is the mantle of marriage. Every time, I have turned to John and trusted that mantle, he has never let me down. Now I don't mean to imply that I have just figured this out...but to some degree, I have just figured this out!

"How is your prayer time?" I asked himself this morning.
"Not a lot of time on it, to be honest with you...I feel like I am being pulled in a hundred directions right now." Himself said.
"Yeah, me too. We've had this great move of God in our lives...We don't serve a God of confusion...maybe the chaos is not from Him?"
"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Maybe we had better slow down long enough to listen. Meet me later?" He asked.
"Would love to.♥" I said, and the rest of it is non-of-your-voyeuristic business!

Sigh...We said our hope our is in the Lord...we said our hope is not in being debt free or a paycheck...we did say that....but the truth is, our hope was in paying off our bills, not so much in His provision to do so. There are thin lines here and we seem to have a penchant for crossing them.

It's not that He changed, we did. We meant to live on purpose...and yet...

So the fam is back in the door any minute. I get to balance the check book...my hope is in Him, not the checks. 'Cause the whole, "I have checks, I must have money thing." has never, ever worked in my favor.

There is no shadow of turning with Him...in the midst of all our changes, He is the constant. Glory.

It's gonna get so quiet here...

I have 7 minutes before I get child number one up for SCHOOL, no wait, now it's only six...ack!

Today begins the school year for them and for me it is the first time in 15 years I have been home alone, all day, as life style. Less the times John has taken the crew for a few hours, I've never been here before.
For the record, I plan to ball after I walk Maggie off to first grade.
And then I go to Walmart...
Wow.
Oh, and then I sit on the couch and eat bon-bons while I watch my stories until they come home. Right?
Now if I only knew for sure the time the bus was coming...

Dry run...

In case you missed my Facebook post yesterday, I sent my man out to a wedding alone. I was feeling like I needed to be here for the kids after all the running around I did last week. My new BFF, Fran, came over and did my hair, John got dressed and out the door. He would attend the ceremony and come back to get me for the reception.

Perfect plan...

or at least it was until he got to the empty church...yeah, the wedding is on the 5th of September...today. Urt.

Thank God he was a good sport, but unfortunately, it means I have to go to the whole thing today. Kids, you are on your own!

Since I had extra time, I got to fret all over again about what I would wear to the wedding. I tried on every dress in the closet and modeled them for my teenagers and John...now I remember why I went wedding dress shopping alone. At the time I tried on three dresses and bought the third one.

Dress number one, full length, teal:
Brennan: "Too low. Are you going to wear a cami underneath?"
Liz: "Too hoochy-mama."
John: "It's a little too formal."
Caity: "You look so beautiful!"

Dress number two, above the knee, black, swing dress:
Liz: "It makes you look skinny but your legs are too pale."
Brennan: "I don't like it."
John: "It's awful black. Yes, like you are going to a madam's funeral."
Caity: "You look so beautiful!:

Dress number three, tiered skirt, halter top:
Liz: "Gives you back fat."
Brennan: "You look like you are going to do the Mexican Hat Dance."
John: "It's fine."
Caity: "You look so beautiful."
Jack: "Let's dance!"

Dress number three, little black dress, and I mean the perfect little black dress!
Liz: "Yup. That looks great."
Brennan: "Wear that one!:
John: "Yeah, it's good."
Caity: "I don't know..."
Jack: "Can we do the Mexican Hat Dance again?"

Okay, I made my decision. Little black dress it is. Run to Macy's, throw our fiscal responsibility to the wind. Buy stockings...
No, I don't need the "D" size. Thanks for asking girls.
Yes, the four inch pumps are a little high. Never stopped me before. Yes, I can walk in them.

Seriously? How dare they even ask!

(Okay, between you and me: Oh my word they are high! Did my knee always hurt when I walked in hooker pumps? No, this is new...they were on sale, I got them anyway. Besides, they are closed toe...you know what I mean. I don't have to glue on new toe nails to wear them! Duh.)

Put the whole thing on and showed the man...

He stared at the shoes with that look...not the good one, like "WOW! You look amazing!" more like the "I am going to have to carry her home after she cripples herself." Ah-huh.

...and then he said: "Well, no one will mistake you for the bride."

Sigh...I still don't know what I am wearing.

The Harried House Wife...

The past few weeks have been nothing short of "RUN!" for me around here. Unfortunately, I think at least half of my children are bored out of their minds.

I wonder if Mary ever had seasons like this in her house...
"James, you are going to have to get one of the other mom's to put you on her donkey to get to Hebrew class tomorrow. I have to run over to the temple with Jesus so He can be about His Father's work."
"Aw, come on. You ALWAYS take Him where ever He wants to go. You treat Him like the Messiah!"
"Keep talking back to me like that James and I am telling your Brother!"

Each hour brings a new task to accomplish, either in house or in the car.

In the mornings I run my oldest to swim practice...something I am thrilled she has been doing. Or at least I was until she told me the time for practice changed to the afternoon...and I cried. Yeah, don't mess with a mommy's running. Her coach called the other night to tell me not to worry about the time changes and that she could work with me about getting Liz where she needs to be. Coach Mary is one of five children and I have no doubt has some residual mercy for mommies on run time. Bless her heart.

In the afternoons I run Jack to either his tutor or football. He has a new assistant coach that we will call "new George" because he is new and his name is George. We already have the best head coach, "Taliban George" thusly named for the two or three tours he has served for our nation over seas in the war on terror. We've known Taliban George for over five years now and we adore him. When he called last night to tell me practice was cancelled because of the heat, I told him I had a problem with New George.

"What did he do?" Asked with the gruff voice of the Marine he is.
"Evidently New George has a problem with Jack being late to practice. In the five years you've known us, we are only late if there is a reason. Last time I checked, Jack does not drive. So if New George has a problem with Jack running late, he can address it with me or John. Okay?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Good point." Said Taliban George.
Hooh-rah!

In between yesterday, we threw a party for Caity's birthday....yeah, the bathroom does need to be cleaned downstairs, dear child. No, you can't just close the door. Thank you.
Yes, I mean all the papers need to be picked up.
Close the garage door, means close the garage door.
Sigh...I am sorry, Caity. When you said you wanted an Oreo Cookie cake, I assumed you wanted a cake made with home made Oreo cookies crumbled in and on it. I had no idea you wanted a cake that looked like an Oreo...I am pretty good, but The Cake Boss, I am not.

John gave Caity her purity ring last night. Oh, so pretty just like she is.
The darling thing just wanted to show me her gifts...sorry dear, your three hours of fame are over. I need to move on to the next task. Show me later, okay?

No Maggie, let's not talk about your party right now. I have Brennan's party, then Jack's party, Halloween, Daddy's birthday, Thanksgiving and the Christmas party to plan first. Sorry. I know having your birthday three days before Christmas was poor planning on my part, but it was the best I could do.

Brennan and I went to a meeting for my sister-in-law earlier in the week. She is not well and living about an hour south of us. John and I met with her to discuss her moving closer to us. The wheels are in motion on that and I asked for a week or two reprieve from running on this subject. The powers that be must have seen the look in my eye that meant they needed to say yes...and so they did.

After the meeting, Brennan attended her open house for Junior High...yeah, late bus is no more. Budget cuts you know. So if Brennan does join anything, I will be picking her up. Of course I will.

Caity, when does Civil Air Patrol start again?

John, your suit needs to go to the cleaners for the wedding we have tomorrow...no, I don't know where the pants are. Yes, the blue shirt is fine.

I told him this morning I that I was not going to the wedding itself, just the reception. I have been gone to much this week and feel like I need to be here for the kids...

"You can skip that too if you want to. I understand..."He says as he grabs his to go coffee and no lunch...oldest child forgot to bake the bread.

Actual translation: "I am trying to help. "

Wife translation: "I can do this without you. Daggers in the heart. Tears."

Proud to say, the actual translation won out.

"We need to sit down together to work out what I am doing with my jobs." He said, passing the first test of wife stress...should have quit while he was ahead.

"Yeah, I'll get back to you with my day planner." Said only in my heart.

"Okay, Hon. I'm on it." Said with my mouth.

Oh, and while I thought I was looking all cute and tiny again, evidently I was way fatter this past year then I thought. 15 pounds gone, but at least 10 more to go...how could all of this running mean nothing fits? I am going with the fact that I am all muscle. Yeah, big hanging muscle on the front of my chest like mozzarella hanging from the ceiling of a good Italian deli.

My next post will be written from a home for the bewildered.

"Run ye to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem..." (Jerimiah 5:1)

Sorry, Lord. I can't run around Jerusalem right now. I gotta run me through the streets of Poughkeepsie!

black and white....who cares?

"I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. "MLK 8/28/63

I am a Martin Luther King nut. I am probably one of the few people in my generation who can tell you that he was killed on April 4, 1968. I know this fact because it happens to be the very day I was born.

When I was little and Mom would speak of it, she would claim that she was the only white woman in Yonkers who knew the date off the top of her head. Story goes that she had a "colored woman" as her room mate in the hospital and Mom had to watch the entire funeral. I remember very clearly asking one night, at the age of 5, how many colors mom's room mate was? I was sure she must look like a stained glass window. I couldn't understand why God would give that room mate of my mom's so many pretty colors and only give me the pale pink...

Race relations is not something I thought a great deal about growing up in the suburbs of Yonkers. I have stories about blacks and whites and maybe they need to be written down for another time.

But MLK was always important to me. In 7th grade, our entire class had to memorize a famous speech and present it to the class. We had a list to choose from and I chose "I have a dream". The winner of the class presentation got to go on to the next level. Long story short, this Irish girl pounded her fist about insufficient funds for the black brothers and sisters in our nation. And I won. It was the first time I ever knew I was good at something...no one was surprised that my skill including talking or an audience.

So why am I blogging on MLK this am? 'Cause it's my blog, duh.

And because it's heavy on my heart. Given the number of people who attended the Restoring Honor Rally in DC over the weekend, I would say it is heavy on the hearts of many Americans.

I think what pushed me to go to DC in that heat this past weekend was way more then just a desire to schlep my family to the steps of the Lincoln memorial to be in a crowd of way over 500,000. And for me, the deal was sealed a couple of weeks earlier in church of all places.

As we sat on a Wednesday night healing service, the guest pastor said something along the lines about how he hates it when he hears that a white person is willing to worship next to a black person but if that same black person were to move in down the block from them they would be up in arms...as ridiculous as the statement was, what drove the knife into my heart was the family in front of me. They happened to be black and the entire family started to nod their heads and shout "AMEN!"

I would have walked out right then and there had I not needed to be there for my dear friend and her family.

Seriously? REALLY?

Is that what I am thought of? Does the sister-in-Christ in front of me really think that way about me? Did they just do to me what they are accusing me of doing to them? I was just judged by the color of my skin and because I am so pasty and pale, I must be a bigot? Seriously?

Because I am white, I must hate my neighbor who happens to be from Nigeria? Because I am white, I must hate my Puerto Rican neighbor across the street? Should I hate the elderly neighbor next door to me too? Or how about the blended family behind us...you know divorced and remarried?

I've paced my living room rug raw on this issue more then once as my friend Sara and I have discussed it over and over again. When I first fell in love with my dear friend, I didn't know what her ethnicity was. I did know that her son Sonjay was best friends with my son Jack. I knew she loved the Lord and wanted to love him more...and I knew she had the best tan I had ever seen.

There are times she has hurt for me and others times she just does not understand this white girl on the other end of her phone. I've been told the fact that I just don't care about color or ethnicity is a rare trait, specific to me...and we "fight" on that point over and over and over. I do believe what happened in DC this past weekend was evidence of the fact that I am not alone in this.

There were those who were furious that a white man organized the rally. Those same individuals have made a life's work out of telling us that white people will always hate black people...and the narrative is starting to crumble.

For the life of me, I will maintain that MLK gave us the gift of not caring what color you are. Honestly, if you are a mean spirited, low-life individual, I won't want anything to do with you no matter what color you are. And I wouldn't have voted for Obama if he was orange with yellow poka-dots. For the record, those who did vote for him, based on the color of his skin are the believers who have some explaining to do...and in this great nation, that is still between them and their God.

Today we celebrate our daughter Caity's 14th birthday. In a couple of our hours she will have her pool party. By 1:00pm EST, in that pool, there will be the children of white men, black men, Jews, Protestants and Catholics. I will be busy serving them cake and ice cream. To the glory of God, may I serve them, knowing that one generation after MLK's speech we will be sitting down at that table of brotherhood on my deck.

Edited to note: When Caity was little, when describing someone who was black, she always said, "brown"...all of my kids did. Color was seen, but certainly not race. I do believe John and I have done a fine job in this area. I get to stand proud of that.