It's ALIVE!!!!

Ok, y'all need to get comfy...I'm about to tell you a most interesting story...got your coffee, water, tea, or soda ready? Are you snuggled in with a cozy blanket? Ok, here we go...

Tonight Elijah had baseball practice. Emma and I dropped him off at the ball field and went to Sam's Club. I'm watching my time, in order to get back to get him around 7:30. We get him picked up, and head home about 8:15. This is where it gets good.

For those of you who haven't been to my house, the master bathroom window overlooks the back of my yard and my neighbor's back yard. I walked in my bathroom and happened to look out. In the distance, I saw one of our chickens...the kicker is, it looked like it was on the OTHER side of the fence (in my neighbor's back yard). 

So, I stroll outside to investigate. Sure enough, the chicken was frantically pacing along the fence line, trying to determine how it got itself into this predicament and how to get itself out. I could see the worry in her face, as she could see her friends, but couldn't get to them. I can only imagine what was going through her little chicken brain.

I gather the kids and head over to the neighbor's to try to corral this chicken and return it to our coop. A few of my chickens will allow me to pick them up; this was not one of them. I know in my mind that this is not going to be an easy task. With each step I take, I'm rehearsing the kabillion ways this could go. 

The kids and I get to the same side of the fence as the chicken, and I'm trying to slowly approach her, in the hopes that she *might* allow me to just pick her up and toss her over the fence. She sees me coming and scurries in the opposite direction. 

I ask Emma to hold the gate open, thinking if I can slowly walk alongside her, with the fence on the other side of her, we might be able to just walk her right out of the yard. Naturally, she ends up in a corner, not at all interested in my plan. 

After this dance goes on for about 10 minutes, Emma finally yells to Elijah for him to hold the gate and she can help me. See, she and I have done this trick before when we're trying to get the chickens in their run. Elijah begins to hold the gate, but not before a 5 minute dissertation from Emma on how it should be done. 

A couple of times, the chicken gets within arms reach of me. I'm able to grasp out for her, but she's very elusive and escapes my advances. At this point, I'm beginning to feel a little Jerry McGuire-ish, in saying to her, "Help me help you. Listen up chicken, I know you want to be with your other little chicken friends, but you gotta work with me here."

Clearly, I did not have all my wits about me...trying to reason and rationalize with a chicken. Not one of my finer moments.

At this point, both kids end up at the gate to the yard and we're all very discouraged. I begin brainstorming other ideas to attempt to save this hen from it's fate of being separated from her sisters, when all of a sudden, the kids begin screaming, "HERE COME THEIR DOGS! MOMMA, THEIR DOGS ARE COMING!!" 

Having lost a few of my chickens to the neighbor's dogs in the past, we KNOW that they will attack the chicken in a heartbeat. 

At first the kids were able to distract the dogs by having them come to them. But as soon as one of the dogs catches a whiff of the chicken, he's gone! In an instant, the dog was at the chicken, grabbing it by its neck and dragging it through the yard. 

I immediately heard wailing from Emma and Elijah because they LOVE these chickens. I tried to stop the dog, but had no luck. Pretty soon, the chicken was laying in the yard in a heap. My adrenaline was slowly beginning to decline, and I was now faced with the task of calming the kids down and explaining to them that the chicken somehow made it to the other side of the fence, and that this result was a very real possibility. 

Emma and I began walking what felt like a trail of death back to the house; Elijah was already there. They were both in hysterics. 

I was taking the time to explain to them that this is what happens, and that our dogs are pretty much the exception to the rule that dogs like to play with and kill chickens. I was mid-sentence when Elijah shouts so loudly that I'm sure people in the next county could hear him, "IT'S ALIVE!!!! OH MOMMA, IT'S ALIVE!!! LOOK!!!"

I turn to look and as sure as I'm sitting here now, that chicken got up, shrugged her wings, and walked away from a pile of feathers that I just knew would be the final resting place of that poor girl. 

I quickly tell Emma to run to the house and ask the neighbors not to let the dogs out; that the chicken is alive and we're going to try to get it.

I make my way back over to the other side of the fence, and again, we are playing this little cat-and-mouse game in which the chicken gets just close enough for me to catch it...if I took a nose-dive...and then runs off. 

Have I mentioned HOW FAST chickens are when they are running?!?!? (Obviously not fast enough to outrun a boxer, though!)

By a stroke of sheer luck, I catch the chicken and, quite literally, toss the darn thing over the fence. 

At this point, I'm ready for a stiff drink! All of this excitement is more than I can handle!

I begin walking back to the yard, after a successful search-and-rescue mission, and Elijah says, "It's a miracle! I just knew that God would save that chicken!!"

Oh to have the faith of a child again...

Stay tuned for further antics from my chickens! (Even though the blog says 13 chickens, I actually have 8 chickens, and 11 pullets, which are like female teenage chickens...and they're not even as much trouble as the grown ones!!!) 

I'm gonna go fix that drink now...enjoy your evening/day/afternoon, whatever time it is when you're reading this. 

Do You Measure Yourself?

A journalist visited a town famous for its rampant unhappiness to see if he could understand its origin. Walking down the street, he noticed a man ahead of him. 

Suddenly, a little man, no more than a few inches high, appeared and ran up the man's leg. He started sticking pins into the man and sewing things to him. 

Instantly, the man was covered by these tiny tailors, all sticking him with pins. He looked completely miserable as he shuffled off.

The journalist saw this happen to one person after another, until he was ready to give up and go home. The town was completely infested with tiny tailors; no wonder everyone was unhappy.

Then the journalist noticed one woman covered with tiny tailors who apparently said something, and the tiny tailors just melted away. 

The journalist ran over to her. "What did you say to get free of them?!" he exclaimed.

"Oh," she answered, "it was nothing. I just told them I've decided to stop measuring myself."

--Guy Finley

How many of us allow tiny tailors to attach themselves to us? To our outsides...to our insides...

How many of us walk through life feeling defeated, because we feel like we don't measure up to some impossible standard of living?

Whether it's the way you feel you should be talking to your spouse, or the way you feel you should be interacting with your children, or the way you feel you should lose weight, or the way you feel you should treat yourself.

In all of these examples, we should ourselves. We should ourselves almost to the point of exhaustion and defeat.

Surely, I'm not the only one?!

This year was supposed to be the year I came to accept myself and who I am. Not that I was content to just remain stagnant where I was when the year started, but to just accept ME. for ME.

I'm not sure I'm progressing in this goal.

And it makes me kind of sad.

What example am I setting for my children if I walk around with LOADS of negative self-talk going on? That does nothing for the environment in my home.

Just this morning, I felt like I was failing at life. And then my daughter, my beautiful daughter, wrapped her arms around my neck and said the sweetest words to me, "I Love You, Momma."

WOAH! It was like a ton of bricks were lifted off my shoulders.

Then, my son echoed her sentiments. He said, "It's OK, Momma."

And I knew I was right where I was meant to be...being 'measured' by the ones who love me most. Who see me at my best...and at my worst...

We are our own worst critics. Let's band together and silence the inner voice which tells us that we'll never measure up...

Five Minute Friday - Friend

Hey Friends! Here we are, at another Friday (already?). So, I've been doing some thinking...scary, I know. I'm going to start writing more frequently. There for a while, I was writing almost daily and it has slowly trickled off. But, as I've said before...I need to write like I need to breathe. And sometimes, it's not much...but just taking the time to sit down and get all of the thoughts out of my head and onto paper (21st Century translation = computer screen).

Today, as with all Fridays, I'm linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker for her Five Minute Friday writing challenge. Today's prompt is Friend...ready? GO!

It's funny to think of the word friend. Sometimes, I think that I haven't got a friend in the world, and then other times, when I take a long-hard look around, I realize I'm blessed with an overwhelming supply of friends.

Those who encourage me with the things they say or do.

Those who lift me up when I'm having trouble lifting myself up.

Those who pray for me when I feel I don't have the strength or stamina to pray for myself.

Those who remind me of the song of my life and sing it back to me when I forget it's chorus or the verses.

Those who let me know that it's okay (and perfectly normal) to yell at my children on occasion. (Side note: thank God for His grace and mercy that I don't stay in 'that place.')

Those who push me to do more. To be more. To love more. To forgive more - even when I feel I. Just. Can't. Forgive. Again.

Those who love me when I feel I'm at my most unlovable.

Those who have care and compassion for me when I'm hurting.

I have several girlfriends who fit some or all of the above. And I'm so grateful for each and every one of them.

I know that you, my dear reader, have this person or people in your life that do these things for you. Oftentimes, it's the person we would least expect it to be. In my case, it's my children.

I know that I can't share all of my personal woes and life struggles in detail with my children, but they have been my best friends lately.

They remind me that I'm their superhero. I'm their mom. I'm their first friend. And I hope to be their best and last friend they have.

Five Minute Friday - Glue

Whew! We made it through another week! I don't know about you, but I'm praising God for that. Today is Friday, and I link up with Lisa Jo Baker for her Five Minute Friday challenge - five solid minutes of writing on a one word prompt - no second guessing, no grammar concerns - just write.

Today's prompt is glue. GO

Merriam-Webster defines glue as, "any of various strong adhesive substances; something that binds together." As I think about the glue in my life...what strong adhesive substances I'm surrounded by, what something(s) that bind me together, my first thought on this Good Friday takes me to my Savior.

John 1:1-2 tells us, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning." Jesus was there. Just as He is here now.

Glue - something that binds together. Oh, like something that binds me together? You mean like on the days when I just don't want to see one more crumpled up sock? You mean like on the days when I can't muster up the strength to put one more smile on my face for the sake of my children?

Or on the days when my world has been shaken to it's core and I know that in order to be the glue that my children need on this earth, I have to keep it together. Yes, those days are the days I'm scratching and clawing my way to the cross. To get what Jesus has for me...the rest He promises for the weary and burdened...the peace He offers, not in the way the world gives or offers...the amazing grace He gives...the hope that is found in His name.

Jesus...

Five Minute Friday - Paint

Happy Friday y'all! We made it through another week! On Fridays I link up with Lisa-Jo Baker for her Five Minute Friday writing challenge - write for 5 minutes flat, no second guessing, no going back and changing your words; on a topic given to you. Today the prompt is 'Paint'...here goes...

A few weeks ago I wrote a post about my daughter painting and how I was simply exasperated when she got the set of brushes in the paint...it wasn't because she was intentionally trying to make a mess, it was because she was just so excited at the brushes I had found.

Last week, I wrote about a sunrise - a true gift from God that day. I wrote about how the colors appeared as though the artist had carelessly just streaked his brush across the sky. When we know that THE artist is anything but careless.

I guess what I'm learning from these 'paint' scenarios is that not everything in life is going to be 'perfect.' And besides, who says that what I think is 'perfect' is actually perfect? If I'm not perfect - and I'm not - then how could I have even a remote sense of what perfect is?

When someone sits down to paint, or draw, or be creative and expressive in any way (by the way, I believe writing falls into this category), there is no right or wrong. There is no perfect. There is no black and white. There are only shades of grey, and colors that blend and bleed, and words that may not fit 'just so.'

So, from here on out, I'm going to take a step back and just be...be content for things to be as they are, without worrying that they're not perfect. Because I'm not. So, how could I expect for things (and people) around me to be perfect?

Sunrise Abounding

It seems my schedule hasn't allowed for me to write in abundance lately. As I've discovered during this drought, writing is therapeutic for me...and I need it. So, yesterday morning, despite the fact that Elijah and six of his friends were slumbering in the basement and any one of them could have awoken at any time, I decided to sit and enjoy the gorgeous sunrise...and write about it...

I'm sitting on my bed - listening to "Hallelujah, Salvation and Glory" and watching the sunrise as I drink my coffee. When I first looked out, the night sky was a shade of midnight blue and where the sun was beginning to come upon the horizon, there was a shade of magenta. Now, as I look out - only a few short minutes later - it's a blazing orange with depth and shades of pink. The blue backdrop of the night sky is beginning to lighten up. I could see the silhouette of a bird in the tree branch. 

The blue is really getting lighter despite the fact that the depth of the actual sunlight isn't increasing. The words of the song strike me deep - 'THE King of kings and Lord of lords.'

Everything is slowly growing more visible and the light is giving the trees more definition. I hear Jesus Culture singing to me now...'Your Glory surrounds me - and I'm overwhelmed'

The sky is now a beautiful shade of sky blue - but still not yet what it will be during the day. Where the sun is rising - the color is a shade between orange and pink and yellow. The colors are rich with new beginnings and yet...the depth and width of the color has not overtaken the sky.

Where the colors were so strictly defined before, they are now beginning to bleed into one another. The sky is now a very pale blue - almost grey-ish white.

The clouds in the distance are now becoming illuminated with the deep pink of the sun. It's so awesome to see the contrast in the clouds. On the top, they are the shade of the sky, but their shape and the outline of the bottom is defined by the color of the rising sun. While I watch the beauty unfold before me, I think about how me and my shape would be defined by the rising 'SON'.

Jesus Culture serenades me with the glorious truth that is occurring before me: 'the winter has passed and the springtime has come.'

The sunrise that is blocked by the trees reveals a sky that is almost translucent. And now - the colors of the sunrise are so narrow and thin - it's just a sliver of orange across the horizon - barely visible. As if all of the glory that was just seen is preparing me for what is to come.

I can see things in the distance that I couldn't before. There's a farm and factory that is illuminated by the light peeking through. 

I hear Kim Walker describing exactly what I'm witnessing: 'Heaven meets earth like a sloppy, wet kiss.'

The sky is now a dusty light blue - with white streaking across like an artist carelessly casting his brush across his canvass. But THE artist is far from careless. Every detail of this sunrise was orchestrated and meant for me this morning. And I'm basking in the awesomeness of it all. My God is the artist...and the world is His canvass. 

It's an oddity - complex and yet so simple - that the sky and the earth would be lit up - but the actual sun is still not yet visible. I suppose it's the same in life-we can't see the actual SON, but we can see His light in those around us. 

As I hear children beginning to stir under me, I take a moment to thank God for this time that is coming to and end. I thank Him for these revelations. For these illustrations and demonstrations of His character.