Transformation

Remember this big fat caterpillar that we captured last September?

Last month, I put a newspaper in the recycling pile on top of our beer fridge in the garage and this is what I saw.

Our caterpillar emerged from his cocoon! It only took him six and a half months, but it was worth the wait.

Pete the Polyphemus moth (as we named him) was glorious and gorgeous in every single way.

We know for sure he is a male, because of his bushy antenna. Male polyphemus moths have bushy antenna so they can detect the pheromones that females emit for mating.

The sad news is this: once eclosion (hatching) is complete for a polyphemus moth, they live only about a week.

That means our guy didn’t live long after these photos. It’s sad to think it took months of darkness for him to have such a short time to spread his wings. We should keep that in mind as we go through our own lives. Sometimes the darkness lasts a while because it’s when the most important transformations occur. Transforming is the goal, the purpose, the journey; NOT the transformation.

The time after the transformation is short because that’s really not the point of it all; in the act of transforming is where we find our authentic selves.

20th Reunion

When I was a junior in high school, the time came for class officer elections. I had been Junior Class Secretary, and thought I’d like to “move up” for senior year. I considered running for Senior Class President until I found out Scott and Manuel were running for the position. I thought there was no way I’d win against them. Besides, the class president is traditionally the one to plan all the class reunions until the end of time. I did NOT want that job, so I decided to run for Senior Class Vice President instead. I led a great campaign, reminiscent of Reese Witherspoon in the movie Election – you know, “Pick Flick!” and all that. Here’s my fancy campaign sign that covered one ENTIRE wall of the high school cafeteria.

Yep. I was bold.

I won the election and ended up being the voice of reason with three laid back class officers. I drove them nuts all year long, being uptight and worrying about Prom plans, graduation speeches, and being emcee of special events. Yes, very typical of me.

Fast forward twenty years, and I’m still uptight but now I’m worrying about the class reunion. Because, of course, I still ended up being the one to plan the five year, ten year, and twenty year reunions for my high school graduating class.

My twenty year reunion was last weekend, May 5,  in Atlanta GA. I planned it, along with a handful of other classmates who are detail-oriented like me. I thought it wouldn’t be too difficult to plan because we hired a company that specializes in planning reunions, but it turned out to be a pretty rough ride. I planned it from out-of-state, and Facebook made things more difficult as alumni started contacting me instead of the reunion company. By the time the reunion rolled around, I just wanted to Get. It. Over. With. and be done with all the planning!

I knew it would be a fun weekend; I was getting to fly home with my husband – sans children! – and have adult time. What could be bad about that? But I didn’t expect it to be the incredibly great weekend it turned out to be.

It started on Friday after our plane landed in Atlanta. We ate at The Varsity in downtown Atlanta. This is the world’s largest drive in restaurant. The food is greasy and messy, but it’s a staple in Atlanta. The onion rings are the most God awful piece of fried slime I’ve ever eaten, and every bite was simply glorious. Yum!

We drove to the suburbs, close to where I grew up, and checked into our hotel. We had a great view of the Atlanta skyline (far away, but still visible) and relaxed for about five minutes – I couldn’t WAIT to get in the car and drive to the neighborhood where I grew up. We saw my old house, and the gracious new owner gave us a tour. It really is a beautiful thing to see my house loved again by a great family.

We also stopped and visited with some old neighbors, and listening to them talk made me miss my parents all over again.

Friday night’s dinner was a highlight of the weekend for me. We met up with a dear old friend named Misty. She is the woman who was holding my hand during a prayer in high school, when I decided to follow Jesus the first time. She has since become a preacher’s wife, and has been battling cancer for the last two years of her life. Her story is heart-wrenching, but her face still shines with a smile and an inner light. I was blessed to be able to give her a gift from nine anonymous people who wanted to touch her life, and seeing the joy on her face was like getting a personal glimpse into heaven.

A group of friends joined us for dinner, and we had such a good time laughing and telling stories. Two friends joined us for drinks at the hotel afterwards, and we had a beautiful conversation about church and Jesus and reaching out to others.

Saturday started with a tour of my old high school, which is in the middle of being renovated. It was fascinating to see how the builders are salvaging pieces of the past and building a fancy new building. And this photo is proof that I am the ultimate high school dork: I actually wore my senior class t-shirt to the tour!

The best part of the tour is when four former teachers showed up to say hello to the alumni. I got to see my homeroom teacher (who was also the sponsor of the school newspaper when I was editor).

And my favorite Latin teacher showed up too. She was close friends with my family, so seeing her was like a whispered hello from my missing loved ones.

After the tour, we headed to the reunion hotel to check in and get ready for the evening. While Dan napped in the room, I went to the lobby to finish up notes for my welcome speech. I sat alone for a few minutes, then other classmates started checking in at the front desk. One had a cooler with him and before I knew it, we were all standing around greeting each other and giving huge hugs. Honestly: there was such genuine joy in seeing each other again, and I started getting so excited about the evening. I reluctantly said goodbye so I could get dressed for the party and wake Dan.

We went down to the reunion banquet room, and joined the party. At one point, I stood across the room and took a moment to watch people as they registered and walked in. I’ve never been to any other school reunion, so I don’t have much to compare it to. But I will tell you I watched people squeal and hug and welcome each other like the long-lost friends they were. It made me wonder if that’s what heaven will be like. I didn’t feel any sort of stand-offish attitudes, and I didn’t see any people who were stuck in the same high school cliques from twenty years ago. People were happy to see each other, meet other spouses, and catch up on each other’s lives. And that’s another thing: the spouses! I watched spouses have almost more fun than the alumni at our class reunion. We had to break up the fun for a class photo, then we watched our senior class video and looked at photos from high school days.

Then the dancing started, and everyone really enjoyed themselves. For me, all the planning was encapsulated in this one photo from the evening:

It’s my friend, Misty, who was on the verge of death a year ago. This photo shows her alive, happy, and dancing her little heart out. If that’s the only good memory that came from the night, it would have been more than worth all the work.

And speaking of all the work, I had at least 15 people approach me and thank me for all the work I put into planning the reunion. That’s not what it was about for me; I would have done it even if no one knew I was planning it. However, it was an added kindness to have my classmates’ support and encouragement.

As if that wasn’t enough, God blew me away through four separate conversations. I won’t go into details because it’ll sound like I’m tooting my own horn, but I will say this: four people had in-depth conversations with me, thanking me for ways I have changed their lives. It touched me so deeply to hear their words, and I know without a doubt it was the Holy Spirit reminding me who I am deep in my soul. At first, I started to shrug off the conversations, and then I felt God putting His arm on my shoulder and telling me to just sit and soak it in, and let these people love me with their words. I was so humbled that they cared enough to share their hearts with me – at a class reunion, no less!

My evening ended in one of the best ways possible: I got to dance to OUR song with the most handsome man at the party. I don’t get to dance much these days, so this was extra special for me. We ended the night with drinks at a nearby bar, then bedtime at 2:30am.

The next morning, we made it to nearby Buckhead Church. This is one of five churches in the Atlanta area that does what my St. Louis church does: the pastor preaches at one location, and he’s broadcast live to the other locations. It was a great worship service, complete with two baptisms and a meaningful message from the lead pastor, Andy Stanley. After the service, Dan and I got to tour one floor of their children’s ministry and I took lots of photos for ideas to try at my job.

We had lunch with one of my best friends from high school, and had mimosas and delicious pub fries with BACON mayonnaise. Yuuuummm!

We headed to the airport, and I felt sad to say goodbye to a great weekend and my hometown. While we waited for our plane to taxi down the runway, I looked out the window and thought back on all the times I’ve flown in to and out of the Atlanta airport. I wondered how many times I did so with tears in my eyes. I remembered flying in after my brother died, and flying out after my honeymoon. That runway and those ugly orange-colored terminals stand out in my memory, because seeing them always meant home for me.

The flight took off, and I studied the terrain of my hometown with tears in my eyes. I hate saying goodbye to home again. And while I stared out the window, I had a hard time remembering what I was looking at because I haven’t lived there for twenty years.

Our plane climbed higher, and I got distracted by the cloud formations surrounding us. I got the camera out and started snapping photos, my heart full of gratitude for a satisfying weekend and for the beauty of God’s world right outside my airplane window.

It wasn’t until the plane started its descent that God broke into my thoughts and spoke deep truth to me. You see, I’ve spent twenty years grieving the fact that I’ll never go back “home” to live again. I’ve felt like a Georgia girl in my soul, never adopting Missouri as my home. Even though my husband and children are all born and bred Midwesterners, I never felt like Missouri was home to me. And then, I looked out the window of the airplane and saw a town that I know better than any other home on this earth. I saw landmarks I recognized, interstates I drive on regularly, and I felt God telling me to claim this town as my home. And, finally, I didn’t fight it. My heart accepted the truth and allowed Missouri to step inside and nestle. I know this is home for me now, and it’s where I belong. By this point, I’ve spent more of my life in Missouri than out of it, and it’s where God drew me back to Him. This weekend was a culmination of that, and He showed me that I am His no matter what my street address says.

Because

On my way in to work this morning, I was driving behind a big truck with three wooden pallets strapped to its roof. They were wobbling in the wind, and the thought occurred to me that the pallets could fly off at any moment and crash into my windshield. My imagination went to the worst case scenario, and I thought, “Wow. What if today was the day I died?”

My first reaction to that was a sense of joyful peace: I would get to be with Jesus today! Then before even two heartbeats could pass, my mind locked onto the image of my children’s faces. I thought: Jesus, not today. Ages five and eight are too young for my babies to say goodbye to their mommy. What would they remember of me after knowing me for such a short time?

If I were to die today, have I taught my children enough about their Father to sustain them until they might meet me again?

While I know my daughter was baptized this past summer, I worry that a huge loss in her life might cause her to turn from God, the same way I did when my brother died. And yet, I know my turning away wasn’t permanent. I know the Bible tells us that once we are God’s, nothing can change that. So I rest and trust in that.

Still, I wonder what she would remember of me if this morning marked the last time she ever saw me alive. Would she remember the way I wake her before school, lying beside her and holding her in my arms? Or will she think of my sighs and short temper I had last night when she spilled in the kitchen and then grumped at me for asking her to take a shower? And, God forbid, will she somehow equate her bad attitude with the reason I died? (I have a friend whose dad died in high school from a heart attack. She loved him, and he loved her. But their last conversation was an argument, so she spent years thinking the argument raised his blood pressure and stressed his heart to death.)

What will Jackson remember of me? Laughter and cuddle time in the morning, when I force him to lay with me until the timer on my phone dings? (He’d much rather be up bouncing around already.) How vague and unformed would his memories of me be after getting just five years of life overlapping with mine? Years from now, would he smell my body spray and have some slight memory where it could have come from?

How do I make an investment in their lives today that will last until their last breaths?

Because in the midst of busy life and all the tasks that pepper my days, the Kingdom of God – and our eternity with Him – should always be the first priority on my list. It doesn’t matter one bit whether I got the laundry done or dinner made or replied to all the emails in my In Box if I haven’t done something for His Kingdom today. And the best way I know to build His Kingdom is to start in my little home with the lives He entrusted to me.

There was a day when I would have worried about an additional person in this mix. I would have worried about seeing Dan again, after my death. The beautiful thing that struck me this morning (Yes, in the midst of such morbid thoughts, there was rejoicing!) was the realization that my husband is going to join me after death. What a gift I can never repay to my Father!

And, no, I don’t believe just so I can get the eternal reward of Heaven. In my earlier years of life, that was the big carrot that dangled in front of me, and the reason for my need to check off the religious boxes on my To Do List of Life. The childish bargains I made with God have fallen away: IF I believe, then You will let me in the gates, right? They were replaced with a soul-deep awe of His grace for me as I finally understood that He wants me home with Him regardless of what I check off the list or what the “If/Then” pieces of the bargain entail. With Jesus, there is no “If/Then”: there’s just BECAUSE.

BECAUSE God is my Father, He wants me home with Him.

Jesus, help me to teach my children about your BECAUSE so one day they can share in the awe and joy of your grace. Show me how to love them in a way that points to You every single day. Amen.

Spilled Milk

Last Wednesday morning, Jackson spilled his cup of milk inside the refrigerator as we were walking out the door for the day.

Thursday morning, he spilled his bowl of cereal milk in his lap and on his chair and on the kitchen floor.

This morning (Tuesday), he spilled his milk on a stool and trash can behind his chair.

I sent him to time out so I could clean up the mess and fume about three! days! in! a! row! of spills. Once I calmed down (time out is sometimes more for me than for him), I walked over to talk to him about these recent spills. The first time I tried to talk, he got mad (I think he was ashamed) and rolled away from me and wouldn’t face me. I walked away to give him more time. The second time, he growled at me while I was talking. The third time, he gave me got rigid legs and whining. The fourth time, there was eye rolling but we worked through it eventually.

After 30 minutes of time out (four attempts at trying to parole him), we walked to the kitchen table where I had set up props so he could practice carrying his bowl from the table to the sink without spills. We spent five minutes practicing, and then went back to the morning routine of packing lunches and bags. THIRTY-FIVE MINUTES TOTAL.

As he packed, I rested my forehead on the back door and prayed for patience. I had a moment of clarity and finally realized why I always feel like I never have enough time: it’s because the time I do have is sucked away in attempts to teach my monkeys how to act like civilized human beings.

So when you come to my house and there are crumbs everywhere, and we’re eating microwaved chicken nuggets instead of a real cooked meal, and there are toys strewn about, AND the floor is sticky from all the spilled milk… know it’s because I’ve spent my time raising productive members of society instead of trying to be a housekeeper.

This parenting thing is so exhausting some days. Sheesh.

So Much to Say

It’s been quiet here at Six Golden Coins. Way too quiet for my liking! You must know how very much I dislike that. I can’t tell you how many posts I’ve started on the laptop inside my brain in the last ten weeks. I want to share the day-to-day details of my life (craft projects and cute things the kids say and photos of the beauty around me), as well as the deep and profound changes my soul has undergone lately. There is so much to say and not enough time to say it.

Right now, I am busy simply trying to find balance in my life. My new job is wonderful and challenging and life-changing all at once, but it has thrown my life completely off center. I struggle to find time to do what I used to do in half the time, plus figure out how to still be a wife and mother (the working mother mommy guilt has sharp nails that scratch at my confidence). Throw in the other mundane flotsam of life (laundry, groceries, cooking – ha! – and trying to stay on top of balancing my checkbook), and I’m stretched thin. Oh, and there are these “little” things like a crashed computer and two hugely major events at work in the last ten weeks (one of them being Easter! At! A! Church! Job!). I hardly know which end is up some days.

But I do know this: it will slow down. It gets easier every day. And more than anything, I have learned stronger boundaries and what really shouldn’t make it on my list anyway. Sorry to say that blogging, while it is a true creative outlet for me, isn’t at the top of my list. I love it. I miss it. And I will be back to it. But right now, it’s in line behind these things:

Sumo wrestling on the front lawn.

Pie night.

Watching my boy finally master pumping his own swing.

Getting to know some awesome coworkers.

Standing in the front row, worshiping the One who makes me who I am.

Pink toenails for the birthday boy.

Thirty seconds in the ticket blaster.

Creations by the best amateur balloon guy in town.

An arena full of Girl Scout chaos. (Which, now that I think of it, should have been WAY down on the priority list. Sheesh!)

Stroking this sweet little nose that we are pet sitting.

And doing my tiny little part to make this happen at my church.

For now, blogging will just have to wait. I’ll squeeze it in when I have a few stolen moments (or feel like I’m really gonna burst and MUST. WRITE. NOW.), but this time of my life is a season of boundaries: learning, practicing, and strengthening them.

I’m not very far away, and I’ll be back soon!

Twenty Years

Their courtship was a little tumultuous. There were tears and breakups, then infatuation all over again. I watched her try to mend her heart over and over, and couldn’t understand why she kept going back to him if he kept breaking her heart. I was a teenager and didn’t quite get the concept of love, and how agony can coexist with ecstasy.

The day they got married, I was convinced he was going to break her heart again sometime down the road. I even went up to him and told him (in my most threatening 18-year-old girl’s voice) that I’d kill him if he broke her heart. Then we smiled and walked down the aisle, and I witnessed them make their marriage vows.

In the last twenty years, I’ve watched them grow and learn how to be a husband and wife and then a mother and father. Their marriage has actually become a model for my own in some ways. I have truly enjoyed watching them become new people together. Today, he has grown into someone I admire deeply. Imagine that! A man I thought would do nothing more than scar her heart has become someone whose advice I seek and who makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever known.

Twenty years ago today, my sister became a wife. I also gained a brother who has guided me and taught me so many things.

Happy anniversary, Mary and Wally! I am so proud to celebrate with you!

Jackson’s 5th Birthday

Jackson,

I’ll start this letter with the obligatory, “Oh, I just can’t believe you’ve grown so big. Where has the time gone?” phrase. I’ll even repeat the same thing I see daily on my friends’ Facebook status updates: “Five years ago, a sweet boy came into our lives and forever changed it. I can’t imagine our family without his spirit and joy for life. We love you, Jackson!”

And I do mean those things; I really do! You have changed our lives: mine, your dad’s and your sister’s. And I really can’t believe you’ve grown so big. And yet…

Here’s the honest-to-God truth: my son, you have taken my world and smashed it to smithereens. You have filled it with more love and pure frustration than I ever thought possible before March 28, 2007. Since that day, you’ve been teaching me innumerable lessons about things like inborn differences of boys and girls, the importance of impulse control on the human condition, and true potty humor. I have given you so many hairy eyeball looks in the last five years, it’s amazing I still have muscular function in my eyebrows. (No wonder those new wrinkles have become so furrowed in my forehead!)

You have pushed me to the extreme edge of myself and my sanity. From the moment you arrived home from the hospital, I have had a lack of sleep as well as a lack of understanding how a little boy’s mind works. Just when I think I have you figured out, you try some new tactic. In the recent past, your modus operandi was slapping your own face when you got frustrated. (Where in the heck did you learn that?!) But this month’s newest tactic is plugging your ears when I say something you don’t want to hear (time for bed, be nice to your friend, sit in time out, stop.repeating.that.question!).

Then, just when I’m at the end of my rope, you become this vulnerable, I-need-your-love-desperately little boy. You come to me with tenderness and regret, knowing you’ve pushed harder than you should have for your independence. It’s like you change your mind for a moment and want to come curl up into Mommy to make sure I’m still dependable and willing to accept you back. And that’s the honest-to-God second truth: I will always take you back. A morning with you might feel like Chinese water torture some days (drip, drip, drip), but I will never tire of being the one you run to for reassurance and kisses.

I won’t go as far as to say I’ll trade all the tantrums for the apologetic make-up hugs you give me at the end of them. However, I will admit how much I love your still small body as it clings to me in those few moments of your sweet hugs. I also love the way you sit beside me at the dinner table, with one leg cocked perpendicular to your body so you can always have bodily contact with me. Your little foot hooks under my knee, because you are so much my boy that you can’t stand being separated from me for even a short meal.

Now could you just sit still for longer than ten seconds at a time? I read once that a boy is “noise with dirt on it.” I’d take it one step further and say a boy is a noisy blur with dirt on it. You are up-down-up-down-run-jump-couch dive-spin-up-down-smack-run-bike-up-down-yell-collapse. That’s your day, condensed into 18 words.

I worry so much about you already: what will your Kindergarten teacher think of us when you start school in the fall? Will you ever learn how to settle down and LISTEN, so you can become a productive, civilized member of society? Will you become a leader or just a rebel? And will you ever be able to stifle that streak of independence, and depend on the One who always takes you back? Will you learn to surrender when He calls you to?

Oh, Jackson. You fill me with pride and fear, worry and joy. I love you, and then I’m so aware of how broken that love is. You have magnified my imperfections in a way I never expected, yet you and your sister have been the ones to model God’s love for His children in beautifully painful ways.

Thank you for that, and for changing me even when I don’t want to change anyMORE! I am crazy for you, because you literally drive me crazy. But at the end of the day, I wouldn’t have it any other way. These are the days I’ll look back on and laugh, knowing how my noisy blur of a boy helped me become more me as I helped him become a man.

I love you, darn stinker!

Parents Weekend at Church

Dan and I were invited to attend Katie’s class at church at the beginning of February. We have been in her classroom before, but it was for a weekend called Salvation Weekend, when the kids have one-on-one conversations about Jesus’ personal sacrifice for them. This time, Parents Weekend was just a chance to sit in on a normal weekend and watch what the kids learn and how the teachers do it.

First, the kids started with something called Hang Time. They hang out together and do things like crafts (mostly the girls do this), play air hockey or foosball, or play a board game or a video game. When hang time finishes (after about 10 minutes), the kids go into a room together and have large group worship time. A worship leader sings songs while a team of kids (called Live Out Loud kids) act as her backup singers. When worship finished, the large group leader welcomed the parents and then invited us to play Human Whack-a-Mole. Oh, boy!

First, the kids got under a board with holes in it. The parents were given inflatable hammers, and got to whack the kids as they popped their heads through the holes. And THEN the fun started: the parents got under the board and the kids got to whack them! It was really fun and funny.

After the game, we had a large group lesson. The weekend lesson was about friendships, and the leader talked about how surrounding ourselves with good friends can change our lives. The kids broke into groups of three and played a game where one person was blindfolded and the other two were supposed to navigate her through an obstacle course. One kid gave bad directions, and the other gave good directions. When the game was over, we talked about how quickly the blindfolded kid could tell what was good advice and what was bad advice, then about how we trust friends in our lives.

The kids got in their regular small groups (the same ones they meet with each week), and talked to their small group leaders about the lesson, what the Bible tells us about friendships, and ideas for how the kids can find trustworthy, Godly friends.

With the last 10 minutes of class, the kids were able to visit stations set up around the room. There was a journaling station, where kids could write about problems going on in their lives. There was a singing station, where the worship leader discussed the day’s worship song lyrics with the kids and then sang them again. There was an art station, where kids could use paint to express their feelings about God. There was also a prayer wall, where kids wrote their prayer requests on notecards and posted them on a wall. At the end of class, the classroom prayer team (which is a group of kids too!) takes the anonymous notecards home and prays over them throughout the week.

It was really interesting to be a part of Katie’s class and to see how our church breaks down some pretty big theological concepts for the kids to understand – and they laugh their heads off and have a blast at the same time.

Holy Yoga

My friend Jill is one of only two certified Holy Yoga instructors in the St. Louis area. At Christmas, she suggested the gift of Holy Yoga for friends as a way to celebrate Christmas in an Advent-Conspiracy-sort-of-way. I loved the idea, but knew I couldn’t get my act together and host a Holy Yoga retreat in the midst of the December rush (plus job interviews, recovering from surgery, etc.). So for my birthday this year, I decided to give a gift instead of receiving one. (But it’s actually one in the same, isn’t it?)

I invited some friends to celebrate with me by opening their hearts in a new way: worshiping our King with prayer, meditation and Holy Yoga. My friends showed up, wrapped me with dozens of hugs, then we settled ourselves onto our yoga mats and spent some time talking. I asked each woman to introduce herself and explain how we know each other, and it unexpectedly turned into an outpouring of love. The words my sweet friends said over me were such a blessing. When the introductions first started, my initial reaction was to play demure and all, “Oh, hush… you are so sweet!” And then I felt the Spirit stirring in my soul, telling me to just quiet the heck down and listen to the gift of words my friends were giving me. So I did, and I soaked it in, and I was blessed.

Jill started by explaining Holy Yoga: it is an experiential worship created to deepen people's connection to Christ. It isn’t your traditional yoga. Poses are used to worship Christ in our lives, and the names of the poses (postures) are named as a reflection of His glory. The Holy Yoga website says, “We do this by integrating His Word, prayer, worship and the physical practice of yoga to contemporary and Christian music.”

Then we started our class, which lasted about an hour. It was dark and quiet and peaceful, with lots of focused breathing and prayer. It was such a great break from the world, and we ended the session with some desserts and girl talk. As my friends left, I gave each one a rock that I hand-decorated with a word and a scripture reference.

It was really a wonderful birthday gift to myself and some dear friends, and I am so glad Jill offered herself in praise of our God!

Kindergarten Registration

Can you smell it? Change is in the air. My personal theme for 2012 seems to be CHANGE. Sometimes it’s painful. Sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes it’s been a long time coming. And, sometimes, it’s bittersweet.

These are my two, hanging out in the elementary school lobby (playing their vintage Gameboys) while I registered Jackson to start Kindergarten this fall. Yep… already. And on other days, I say “Not soon enough!” Because life is just learning to balance contrariness.

My New Job

These are the images I don’t want to forget from my first day on the job.

Father, I pray I never forget what an honor it is to work for you and with you. Amen!

My Last Sunday Off

Y’all know I started a new job at the end of January. I work at my church now, which means I work on Sundays. Before I started working, Dan and I decided to take the kids out on my last Sunday off, and have some fun in St. Louis.

We chose the Science Center, because we haven’t been in a while – AND it’s free! We knew the moment the kids stepped in the doors, they would have a blast. There’s this contraption all through the lobby that has chutes and levers and conveyor belts to transport balls throughout the structure. It’s fun to stand in the middle of the lobby and watch the balls roll throughout the three-story ramps.

Then we walked into the Science Center and Jackson saw this:

Yep! It’s life-size Tyrannosaurus Rex! Here’s a better photo to express the dinosaur’s size. The look on Jackson’s face when he first saw it was one of incredulous awe.

We moved through the rest of the museum, checking out displays about earthquakes and tornadoes, fossils and planets. The kids learned about the catenary curve (i.e., the St. Louis Arch) and used a robotic back hoe. They pointed radar guns at cars on the highway outside, and we also weighed Katie to figure out how much it would cost to ship her into space (based on weight).

We also saw a movie in the Imax theater called Space Junk. It was all about satellites and junk falling apart in space, and creating hazards for any sort of new satellites we might launch, not to mention danger to our planet. Katie is a little bit of a science nerd, so she liked the movie a lot. When the museum closed, we decided to drive to another St. Louis landmark and have dinner and dessert. Here’s a clue to where we went:

Anyone want to guess? It’s been featured on Man vs. Food, and is a must-visit for tourists (and locals, too!). Here’s another hint:

If you guessed Crown Candy Kitchen, you are correct! We had hot dogs and split a BLT, making sure to save room for dessert: HUGE ice cream sundaes! It was the kids’ first time to visit Crown Candy, so we had to splurge of course.

What a fun day together, and a great way to celebrate a new beginning in our family’s life.

(Yes, I know it’s the blurriest, worst iPhone family photo ever! The owner of Crown Candy is known for his treats, not his photography.)

Let Me Clarify

Before we go any further, apparently some clarification is necessary after my last post. Feel free to go read it so you don't feel like you're missing something. Yes, I'll wait. Go on...

Okay, now that you know what I'm talking about... or what I am NOT talking about! So let's clarify it a bit and fill in the holes.

First up, NO, there was not any sort of cheating or lying or badness in my marriage. That is not what that post was referring to. (Somehow, some friends thought I was alluding to that.) And, yes, I am still a Christ follower. And I am still employed at my new job. And, yes, unfortunately, I am still an idiot. Now let me explain.

If you know anything about me in real life (or even by just reading my blog), you know I am, well... let's be honest here: I am a computer addict. My personal laptop was a Christmas gift in 2009. I was so happy to own it that I even gave it a name. I started relying on my computer - literally - as half of my brain. I do everything on the computer. I have my grocery list on the computer. (It is organized in sections that correlate to my local grocery store, so I can get shop! efficiently!) I have all my genealogy research on the computer. I have emails dating back years, including the last ones my dead brother, mother and father sent me. I have Christmas gift lists (given and received) dated from the year I got married to the present. Over 3,000 songs in my music library, recipes, a list of every book I've read, financial records, an Excel spreadsheet full of amazing quotes I've come across, and the start of a book I'm writing. Microsoft Outlook does the thinking for me when it comes to birthdays and anniversaries and planning my calendar out for the entire next year. Outlook also stores every single address for long-lost relatives and fellow White Castle Hall of Famers, as well as notes and the emails I mentioned above.

I wrote that entire preceding paragraph as if it were still present-tense. However, that is not the case. Five days before I wrote my last post, I lost E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G on my computer. For someone who treats her computer as an extension of her very own body, here's where the idiot mistake comes in: I did NOT back it up.

Let me stop here and expound for a moment: I am sure some of you reading this blog are now thinking, "Dude, whatever! You are a pansy, Elizabeth!" You think losing computer data is really no big deal. It's just information and ones and zeroes, right? Technically, yes. But for me, it's much more than that. And here's why I wrote this in my last post: "The mistake colored my faith, my marriage, my confidence, my everything this week."


Losing my computer colored my faith because it hit me right between the eyes how very much worth I put in a stupid piece of electronics. Since I am being brutally honest, I must admit that my computer has become an idol for me. Not an Idol with a big "I" (because I truly don't feel like I put it before Christ), but it's definitely an idol with a little "i." That's a hard thing to admit, and I'm ashamed to say my computer has been a higher priority sometimes than my husband, my children, my health, and my personal joy. Some days I spend more time with it than I do with those I love. Typing that sentence humiliates me and fills me with regret. When did I stop using the computer as a tool and start letting it become my brain?

Losing my computer also colored my marriage. I was so horrified by everything I lost on my computer that I was out of my mind and lashed out at Dan. He was having his own struggles and lashed back. It made for a dark fight, the kind we haven't had in years. It's hard to find your footing after that, but we extended grace and forgiveness to each other and are moving forward.

Losing my computer shook my confidence. In the midst of a hard month when I am trying to find my balance with my old job (being a mom) and my new job (administrative assistant) and learning to solidify boundaries and redefine my routines and my life, I lost one of the major tools that keeps me grounded. Remember how I talked about my Outlook calendar being responsible for dates and reminders? I rely on it to tell me when bills are due, and then I log in to a company website to pay said bills. But when I have no idea what bills are due when, much less WHAT password to use to log in (because the passwords were lost too!), it makes the world a little wobbly. You how some days you have a feeling that you're forgetting something, and how you feel "off" all day? Imagine me feeling that way since February 8, the day I handed my computer over to be fixed. And throw in a new job and Jackson's new school and new routines, and now you have a small idea of why losing my computer was a big deal.

So, enough with the justification and explanation. Here are the silver linings of the situation:

1) I didn't lose my photos. Since I take so darn many, I started storing them on an external drive a year or two ago. Thank God I didn't lose those!

2) Last October, I made another bonehead mistake that has actually turned out to be a blessing. I was trying to backup files on an external drive but accidentally deleted them instead. I bought software and was able to recover the files onto that external drive, then copy them onto my laptop again. All I have left now is whatever was on that external drive that was last updated six months ago. It doesn't include Outlook contacts, notes, emails or my calendar, but at least it's something. The bad news is that I lost six months of work, but the good news is that I still have a place to start. Silver lining: when you make a mistake, sometimes it turns out to be a GREAT thing.

3) No one stole my computer, which is a blessing. I kept financial information on there which, if stolen, could have ruined my credit and identity. I'm glad it was "just" a crash and not a theft.


4) I have gained perspective on life. In the grand scheme of things, losing a computer pales in comparison to the other life losses I've endured. To be honest, that's one of the reasons I cried the most when I realized I lost all of my data: it hit me that I lost my parents' and brother's emails and information too. When someone you love dies, you hang on to every last fiber and scrap that used to be them because you know there will never be anything new made by them again. It hurts to lose something that was a part of them, even if it was just an email. But I do know this: even if I have their emails, it doesn't make them any less dead. Clutching at their scraps won't bring them back, but no data loss will erase them from my brain either.

5) I am thanking God for this blog. It's a record of my life (and my kids' and husband's life) that exists outside of my laptop, and it is still alive even when the computer is not. I am especially glad that I still have this post that I wrote a year ago. It contains my father's last writings to me.

Looking forward, I will protect my laptop. I will invest in cloud storage and backup my data regularly. (I highly recommend you do the same.) Another thing I'm pondering is the use of some sort of cloud organizer instead of Microsoft Outlook. I've considered it in the past, but didn't want to go through the work of uploading all my contacts and calendar to another destination. Now that I am starting all over from scratch, I think maybe it's a good time to try it!

And to sum it all up, I go back to that image I used in my last post: "View your life with kindsight. Stop beating yourself up about things from your past. Instead of slapping your forehead and asking: 'What was I thinking?' Breathe and ask the kinder question: 'What was I learning?'"

Oh NO

This past week was a really really hard one. I am tired, embarrassed, and humbled. But as I write this tonight, I can see the big picture and acknowledge truths about the place I'm in at this exact moment.

That doesn't mean I haven't spent many moments of this past week (mostly starting at noon on Wednesday) hitting myself upside the head countless times. I made a truly IDIOTIC mistake, which I will go into here eventually. Not that there is ever a good time to make an idiotic mistake, but this week was especially bad. The mistake colored my faith, my marriage, my confidence, my everything this week.

And then I came across this tonight:

It's a reminder that I (yes, even I!) am human and I screw up. And although it's painful (and this particular mistake will haunt me for quite some time), I am going to give myself some grace and LEARN from this.

Boy, howdy! Yes, there is some major learning going on here. Ouch.

Adjusting and Stretching

I am still here, still breathing, still living! I haven't blogged because of a few reasons. First, my computer still isn't being cooperative. It needs a checkup, so my friend is working on it. I might not have it back for a week, so you'll just have to give me a moment and be patient until I get it back and can go into more detail about life.

The other reason is, of course, my new job. I'm still adjusting to the new routine and trying to keep boundaries between work and home, but it's a good adjustment. The first week had its share of worries as I realized how big of a change I was actually facing, then questioned my ability to handle the change. But since then I've been digging in and learning SO much.

I had a conversation with one of the musicians at work/church today. He asked how the job is going, and I told him I feel God has brought me full circle. I remember the first time I ever talked to someone at church - it happened to be him, after he played a meaningful song on one of my first visits there - and how he sang that same song the first weekend after I became a staff member (just two weekends ago). It's so beautiful to be in the midst of a moment when I know God is changing me, and to be able to see the change as it's happening. Mostly, it's beautiful to fully open my hands to Him and defer to His direction for me.

In the last few weeks as I adjust to these changes, I have felt God's calming presence standing beside me. I know without a doubt that He is using this transition period in my life to grow me and stretch me. I trust Him completely, even in the moments when my confidence is shaky. He is becoming my confidence instead!