Leap

Remember the first time you took a pregnancy test and it was positive?
Remember how you kept checking it to make sure it wasn't your imagination, then went out and bought another one just to be sure?
Remember how you waited to call your mom, your sister, your best friend, so you could tell your husband the news first?
Remember how you searched online to find the most creative way possible to tell him about that little blue plus sign?
Remember how you could hardly sleep that night as visions of your future child filled your head?

So it begins.

Today we were accepted in the America World Adoption program for Ethiopia.

Does My Microwave Leak Microwaves?

My struggle this week:

Let my kid face the harsh realities of life.
OR...
Shield him from hurt.

This is harder than you think.

Here's the culprit:

His science fair was last week.
When I went to help judge other projects, I was told that his project looked like his parents had done it and it got graded down because it was typed.
I usually don't have a temper but I had to leave the building.

So how do I teach him to accept the grade he received when I am having trouble accepting it myself?
How do I show him how to be graceful in a situation filled with anything but grace?
And why am I struggling with this?

I can't remember anything bad from my childhood.
My home was extremely stable.
All my memories are really happy.
Pool parties.  Family game nights.  Sleepovers with best friends. Piano lessons. Grandparents as babysitters. Tree forts.  Lots of little animals that my mom and I fell in love with and couldn't resist. Art projects. Stories and books.
These are the first things that come to mind I talk about my childhood.

So, I am left thinking.
Did my parents shield me from the hard stuff?
OR...
Did my stable childhood just overcome hard life lessons I had to learn?
OR...
Does my memory just stink?
OR...
A combo of all three?

Thank-you, mom and dad.
Thank-you for shielding me when I needed your protection.
Thank-you for providing enough positive life lessons that somehow the hard ones just took their place among them and don't stand out as painful.

I guess it all boils down to grace again, doesn't it?!

Happy Birthday, dad.
I appreciate you.
I love you.

Pantyhose

makes you smile, doesn't it?

growing up, i went to a christian school where we had to wear 'em everyday along with our knee length skirts.

not smiling anymore, are ya?

perhaps you need a visual.

smiling again?

at least i had a cool trapper keeper.

right now, i am so very very passionate about grace. i can't stop the grace concept from infiltrating every part of my life.

i am concerned that so many Christians want to wear panyhose. 

need another visual?

but pantyhose restrict. 

they itch. 

they're uncomfortable. 

they tone everyone to be the same color. 

they get holes easily. 

and quite frankly, they stink when you wear them too long. 

God's grace allows for freedom.

FREEDOM.

unless you had to wear panyhose for 12+ years of your life, you may not really understand what freedom from those nasty things feels like. 

God knew there was a better way to live. 

freedom to expose (gasp!) your real self to the world. 

freedom to say, "i'm not perfect."

freedom to be not boring. to live a life of adventure.

freedom to emit an odor that is so fragrant and inviting that everyone comes to see what is making it.

ha!ha!ha! that line made me laugh so i'm leaving it in.

freedom to accept others how they are, 

where they are, 

who they are; 

and know that I am only responsible for extending grace to them.

just as it was extended to me. 

GRACE. extended. to. me.

for. me.

pantyhose.

yuck.

please put them away.