tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10256026568993942332024-02-06T21:42:13.716-05:00Burtonsville MOPS and MOMSnextDerwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.comBlogger245125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-36449192965578653902022-05-17T15:10:00.001-04:002023-05-06T20:00:44.792-04:00<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;">Burtonsville MOPS and MOMSnext 2023-2024</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Who:</span></b> MOPS -- Moms of kiddos from birth - kindergarten*</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MOMSnext -- Moms of kids grades 1-6</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><b><span style="color: #800180;">What:</span></b> A bi-monthly moms meeting</span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">When:</span></b> Wednesdays from 9:30-11:30 am</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #800180;">Where:</span></b> Resurrection Catholic Church</div><span><div style="text-align: center;"> 3315 Greencastle Road</div></span><span><div style="text-align: center;"> Burtonsville, MD 20866</div></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Why:</span></b> Because we need Jesus and each other</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #800180;">How:</span></b> By the grace of God and a fleet of minivans</div></span><br />If you'd like to know a bit more about MOPS and MOMSnext and what happens at our meetings, be sure to check out our "About Me" page and if you'd like to register, check out the "Registration" page. We look forward to seeing y'all soon!</div>Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-19449400131557584472020-04-16T11:28:00.003-04:002020-04-16T11:28:57.357-04:00<header class="entry-header" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(91, 91, 93); color: #5b5b5d; font-family: "EB Garamond", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><h1 class="entry-title" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 40px; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: 2px; line-height: 1.05; margin: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">
Finding Marital Connection During COVID-19</h1>
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<span style="box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block;"><span class="x-icon-pencil" data-x-icon="" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block; font-family: FontAwesome; text-decoration: inherit; text-rendering: auto;"></span> DOROTHY LITTELL GRECO</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block;"><time class="entry-date" datetime="2020-04-16T00:01:00-06:00" style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="x-icon-calendar" data-x-icon="" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block; font-family: FontAwesome; text-decoration: inherit; text-rendering: auto;"></span> APRIL 16, 2020</time></span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block;"><a href="https://blog.mops.org/category/self/" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #fa6a55; text-decoration: none; transition: color 0.3s ease, background-color 0.3s ease, border-color 0.3s ease, box-shadow 0.3s ease; white-space: nowrap;" title="View all posts in: “self”"><span class="x-icon-bookmark" data-x-icon="" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block; font-family: FontAwesome; text-decoration: inherit; text-rendering: auto;"></span> SELF</a></span></div>
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We all know that we need to nurture our marriages. Thanks to COVID-19, date nights are off the table and frankly, most of us are so physically and mentally exhausted from what this season is asking of us that we can barely muster the energy for a hug.</div>
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But given that we have <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-style: italic;">at least</span> another month of confinement and disruption from our normal routines, how can we make sure that we don’t end up completely disconnected?</div>
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When I’m in crisis mode – which aptly describes this season – I tend to become very businesslike. I’m efficient, but not exactly gentle or warm. That can leave my husband feeling distant from me.</div>
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Frankly, we can’t afford emotional distancing at this time.</div>
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I need him and he needs me.</div>
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The psychic toll that the climbing death rates, the uncertainty of who’s carrying COVID, and the daily interruptions in our normal life have left us both feeling vulnerable and scared.</div>
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And the truth is none of us are immune from the external and internal turmoil caused by this microscopic virus.</div>
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Though all of our scenarios are slightly different, there are common ways that we tend to respond to chaos and disruption. It might manifest as <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-style: italic;">trying to </span>micromanage your household. I actually asked my husband to ration his almond butter consumption last week because we are almost out and I feared we wouldn’t find any more! We might self-medicate by consuming more than normal amounts of comfort foods or binge watching Netflix.</div>
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Eating an entire bag of chips in one sitting is much easier than giving voice to the panic that has washed over me on several occasions during the past few weeks. But in addition to the extra pounds that are surely accumulating, coping behaviors won’t necessarily help me to meet my spouse’s needs—or get my own deeper needs met.</div>
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If we can identify what we’re feeling and what we need from each other and then communicate these discoveries to our spouse, we’re more likely to find points of connection and move toward each other.</div>
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Some of those needs might be simply logistical. Given that the boundaries between work and home have blurred, what do you need to get through your day?</div>
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My husband and I need the exact opposite environment in order to get our jobs done. He’s a drama teacher who leads worship on the weekends. He thrives on social interaction that borders on chaos, mess, and constant give and take with his colleagues. I need quiet, order, and to be left alone. Our first week of shelter-in-place was not pretty.</div>
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Now, four weeks in, we have a brief “production meeting” every morning to make sure we don’t interrupt each other at the worst possible moment. (I chose to make myself a fried egg the other day thinking he was done leading worship for his school’s chapel on Zoom. He wasn’t. The smoke detector went off thirty seconds before he needed to start the final hymn. Oops.) We also delegate day-time chores (which I normally take care of) and cast lots for who goes grocery shopping.</div>
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Finding the time and energy to connect as lovers has been much more difficult. (And we only have one almost-adult child living with us.) As I talk with my friends who now have young kids at home all day, they concur: not much is happening between the sheets other than fitful sleep.</div>
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In an effort to be intentional, my husband and I actually decided to abstain from sex until after Easter and direct our energies to prayer (see 1 Cor. 7:5). This has felt deeply meaningful—though at times quite difficult. We’re also choosing to hug more often and longer and make sure we snuggle most nights before bed. None of these meet the same needs as sex but they are keeping us connected which is important.</div>
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Though we are not necessary meeting each other’s sexual needs at this time, we are working hard to connect emotionally and spiritually.</div>
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We’re praying more. And we’re regularly coming to a full stop and asking each other how we’re doing. Putting your devices away, holding hands, looking each other in the eyes, and giving your spouse your full and undivided attention for fifteen minutes does wonders to help ease any aloneness or feelings of frustration. (And do be honest with each other. This is not the time to pretend you’re doing well if in fact you’re struggling.)</div>
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Hopefully, we’ll come out on the other side in another month or two. In the meantime, don’t waste this opportunity to learn news ways of loving and supporting your spouse.</div>
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<hr style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(242, 242, 242); border-top-style: solid; box-sizing: border-box; height: 0px; margin: 1.313em 0px;" />
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<a href="http://www.dorothygreco.com/" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #fa6a55; text-decoration: none; transition: color 0.3s ease, background-color 0.3s ease, border-color 0.3s ease, box-shadow 0.3s ease;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-style: italic;">Dorothy Littell Greco</span></span></a> is the author of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LWQ8BPJ/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #fa6a55; text-decoration: none; transition: color 0.3s ease, background-color 0.3s ease, border-color 0.3s ease, box-shadow 0.3s ease;">Making Marriage Beautiful </a>and the forthcoming <a href="https://www.ivpress.com/marriage-in-the-middle" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #fa6a55; text-decoration: none; transition: color 0.3s ease, background-color 0.3s ease, border-color 0.3s ease, box-shadow 0.3s ease;">Marriage in the Middle</a>. She’s also a photographer, mom, and wife. When she’s not working, she loves to walk in the woods, bike on flat surfaces, and kayak slow rivers. She lives with her husband of 29 years and their fluffy cockapoo outside Boston.</div>
</div>
Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-12613824546724511212020-02-27T10:17:00.000-05:002020-02-27T10:17:16.015-05:00The Same TeamThe Same Team || Mary Carver | marycarver.com<br />
My husband and I spent our 13th wedding anniversary with a marriage counselor. It was more romantic than it
sounds. And while I can’t tell you we have a perfect relationship now, we will celebrate our 20th anniversary this
year in a much better, healthier place than we could have imagined on that day seven years ago. What helped
us most was our lousy counselor and the knowledge that we were on the same team.
At first our counselor seemed nice, but eventually we came to the conclusion that she was actually a terrible
counselor. She asked bizarre questions, focused on the least important part of our discussions, and assigned us
ridiculous homework. And each time we met with her, we had to remind her about our background, our problem,
and our progress. So the counselor we saw wasn’t great, but coming to that conclusion with my husband,
though – Kind of great.
Throughout our relationship, the thing that glued us together was the mindset of “we’re in this thing together;
we’re on the same team.” And we’d forgotten that. Being on the same team meant we fought together, not
fought each other. It meant we recognized the true enemy (hint: it wasn’t either one of us or even our counselor!).
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against
the cosmic powers of this darkness, against evil, spiritual forces in the heavens. - Ephesians 6:12
After years of unmet expectations and disappointments, we’d unknowingly worked ourselves into a combative
relationship. It was me against him, and neither of us was winning. When we took time to reflect on our
relationship – the good and the bad parts – we remembered that the times we felt the closest were when we
worked together on a project, when we faced a common “enemy,” when we cheered for the same team. Nothing
changed our attitudes faster or led to more healing than when we realized that the team we needed to cheer
for was us. As teammates we began talking more, problem solving and coming up with ways we could fix our
mess together. We turned back toward each other, linking arms and leaning on our faith, becoming as strong
as a cord of three strands (Ecclesiastes 4:12).
I’m not telling you that everything was roses and sunset walks after that. It was certainly a process and
something we still have to remind ourselves occasionally, so we don’t fall back into old habits and turn on each
other at the slightest provocation. We have to remind ourselves which team we’re cheering for.
I’m thankful for that counselor, even though she was far from what we initially hoped. I’m grateful our sessions
with her reminded us that we were in this together – and that we are fighting for this, for us – together.<br />
<br />
DEEPER DISCUSSION:
• What helps you remember that you and your spouse are on the same team?
• What do you need to say or do that will make your team stronger?<br />
<br />
<i>Mary Carver is a wife, mom, writer and recovering perfectionist who lives for good books, dark chocolate and
television marathons. After a lifetime of trying harder and doing more, she’s finally learning to give up on perfect
and get on with life. Read more at marycarver.com</i>Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-89274965321104216002020-01-23T10:13:00.000-05:002020-01-23T10:13:39.121-05:00Hospitality- Accepting Others' InvitationsAccepting Others’ Invitations || Alexandra Kuykendall | alexandrakuykendall.com<br />
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A blanket on the floor. A few cookies, goldfish crackers and carrot sticks sitting on a mishmash of plastic dishes.
It all looked a little familiar. I knew where those cookies had come from and wondered how this little hostess
managed to get to the package stored high up in the cupboards. Most important to this familiar scene was a
girl dressed in her finest ragged princess dress thrown over the day’s regular leggings and long-sleeved T-shirt,
wearing her most important accessory: a smile stretched across her face, proud of the picnic tea party she
was offering.
I’ve lived some version of this invitation many times in my house. I’m raising four hostesses who have spent
some magic preschool years creating a “feast” and setting a table with me in mind. They’ve then approached
me with “Mommy come see!”, “Sit with me!” or “I made this for you.” Turning down their invitations was never
an option. I always needed to sit and admire all they had done, verbalizing my appreciation with every bite. To
not, would have been to minimize their hard work in setting a space for me.
Hospitality is a spirit of welcome - a posture of inclusion. It can be carried out in practical ways that often involve nourishing our bodies through food and a place to sleep. We see Jesus experiencing hospitality throughout
his short life. He accepted many invitations of the mishmash sort, meals specially prepared, and places to lay
his head. In most of these stories he was not the host, but the invitee accepting the gracious, yet imperfect
invitation of others to welcome him in.
As we consider the idea of setting the table for someone to come and join us, let us not forget to accept the
invitations our neighbors offer as well. Because when we do, we acknowledge their hard work and their efforts
to set a space for us. We see the special trouble they’ve gone to, no matter how humble the offering, to make
us feel at home. Accepting others’ invitations is as much hospitality as offering them. Because it is the spirit
of welcome we all long for.<br />
<br />
DEEPER DISCUSSION:
• When is it difficult for you to accept a neighbor’s invitation for hospitality? Why do you think it is?
• Who would you like to spend more time with? How can you say “yes” to their invitations with
more frequency?
• How has Jesus set an example for you to accept others’ invitations? How can you bring your spirit
of welcome to another’s space?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Alexandra Kuykendall, a trusted voice for Christian women, speaks on issues of how faith impacts everyday
life. She is the cofounder of The Open Door Sisterhood, a community of women working to be world changers
for good right where they are. She cohosts a podcast and retreat under the same name. Alex has authored
four books, her most recent, Loving My Actual Neighbor. Alex lives in the shadows of downtown Denver
with her husband, Derek, and their 4 daughters who range in age from 16 to 7. You can connect with her at
AlexandraKuykendall.com.</span>Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-81657388972313926272020-01-09T07:52:00.003-05:002020-01-09T07:52:40.090-05:00The Perfect AdvocateJesus – The Perfect Advocate || International Justice Mission | ijm.org<br />
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In Luke 4, Jesus returns to Nazareth to begin his ministry. In the synagogue, he reads from the words of Isaiah:
The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set
the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. - Luke 4:18-19
We have no better model for advocating for the oppressed than Jesus. In everything he says and does, he champions for all of us; we all need rescue, redemption and love. On earth, he was never afraid to confront leaders on
their shortcomings. And he willingly acted against laws that oppressed the poor, like not healing on the Sabbath,
and criticized religious leaders for misusing the temple.
Jesus lived a life of radical love to all those in need of a savior. His challenges to authority led to his death, but
he never strayed from his message of love and justice.
Christ is the perfect defender and advocate.
Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always
lives to intercede for them.<br />
<br />
- Hebrews 7:25
My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an
advocate with the Father – Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. - 1 John 2:1<br />
<br />
Let’s pray these things together:
Pray against the powers perpetuating injustice and preying upon the
poor and vulnerable. Praise God for his promises to bring freedom
and restoration through Jesus Christ. Ask God to show you how to be
his hands and feet for preaching good news to the poor, proclaiming
freedom for the prisoners, and setting the oppressed free.<br />
<br />
• Think about places in the Bible where you see Jesus as an advocate for the needy, the afflicted,
the outcast and the oppressed.<br />
• Read Luke 10:25-37 and think about how this story teaches us how we should stand up for the
vulnerable.<br />
• In what ways did Jesus model advocacy for the poor?<br />
• How can we model the balanced attitude of justice and love like Jesus?<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This study is based on a devotional created by Jessica Horner, an IJM Church Mobilization intern. Used with
permission.</span>Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-41168097784970604032019-10-14T10:14:00.000-04:002019-10-14T10:18:25.931-04:00<b>About the importance of finding female friends....</b> Jen Hatmaker has a few words to say on the subject (from Chapter 5 of <i>Out of the Spin Cycle</i>):<br />
<br />
I'm a terrible driver when I'm alone. It always seems like a great idea at first. I relish the notion of being the in the car without the following verbal barrage assaulting me like tiny, individual daggers stabbing away at the thin flesh of my sanity: "Mommy? Do you know how to teleport?" "Mommy? How many seconds have you been alive?" "Mommy? What's five billion times ten million?"<br />
<br />
But the reality of driving alone is much different that the beautiful, peaceful theory. I get bored. I get tired.<br />
<br />
I should have brought a friend. Friends help you uphold he heavy responsibility of motherhood and remind you you're not crazy. They don't complain when your kids interrupt your phone conversation every twelve seconds. They gladly enter the parenting discussions that our husbands lose patience with after only the fourth time. Friends don't even bat an eye when you burst out crying for no good reason.<br />
<br />
The way we love each other, serve each other, and live our lives with each other is a big deal to Jesus. At the beginning of time, creation encountered its first problem: "It is not good for the man to be alone." Thus history began with human connection. Two are better than one, and togetherness is always superior to loneliness.<br />
<br />
Never was I more susceptible to isolation than during young motherhood. It can be such lonely work. Because my personality required a scheduled routine, for years I fed and dressed babies, cleaned up, put someone down for a morning nap, engineered lunch chaos, put kids down for afternoon naps, cooked dinner, bath time, story time, bedtime. I'd sit down for the first time at 8 p.m.<br />
<br />
It was hard to make room for my friends. But I did it. We had playdates down to a science. We put babies to sleep at each other's houses, bathed them together, fed them together, ate at Chick-Fil-A so often the manager knew us by name, and picnicked at every park in the greater Austin area. I changed their babies' diapers as often as mine. We put each other's kids in time-out. I administered first aid to their children, and they pulled mine out of the swimming pool. We've traded kids, taken kids, borrowed kids, and dumped kids.<br />
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My friends are the reason I survived young motherhood.<br />
<br />
A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. John 13:34-35.<br />
<br />
If we are to love each other like Jesus loved us, then it makes practical sense to band together during young motherhood. Because–like Jesus does–we'll end up loving each other when we're crazy, burned out, hysterical, and exhausted. We'll stand by one another during the most neurotic phase of parenting there is. We don't let a member of our tribe slip under the radar or get swallowed by isolation. We share the burden of parenting, making it lighter for everyone to carry. We'll remind our friends to laugh and call forward the best in each other.<br />
<br />
Motherhood is the task that brings us together, but love is the glue that binds us together. if we're too busy to love each other like this then we're too busy. We need our friends. We need the counsel and companionship; they need our compassion and comic relief. "You must love one another, " said Jesus.<br />
<br />
We really must.<br />
<br />
Are you enjoying the tribe of young mothers, or are you lonely and isolated? Reach out to another mom or group of moms today. Invite them over, plan a playdate, arrange a picnic, whatever. Need a friend? Be a friend.<br />
<br />
Excerpt from <i>Out of the Spin Cycle</i> by <b>Jen Hatmaker</b>, http://jenhatmaker.com/out-of-the-spin-cycle.htmDerwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-51490163557879247812019-10-03T09:27:00.002-04:002019-10-03T09:27:54.357-04:00The Rules || Katie Westenberg | ichoosebrave.com, mops.org<br />
<br />
Each time my family purchases a new game, the evening goes down in a pretty predictable fashion. See, we
have these kids who are (finally!) outgrowing Candyland and stretching into the land of strategy and thinking
games. (Yes, it really does happen eventually.) So when we find a new game, we gather our tribe around the
table and read through the rules carefully.
Our four kids frequently interject with a dozen questions because none of these rules and instructions quite
make sense in the learning process, and my husband and I have almost no answers because we’re still trying to
figure it out as well. Welcome to the beauty and tension of family game night, where we typically end up pleading
for everyone to be patient and it often turns out to be a learning opportunity in more ways than we bargained for.
Maybe you have been there?
I can’t count the times I have heard a mama friend sigh the words, “I wish there was a rule book for this,” as
she moves into a new and challenging season of motherhood. One kid struggles with friends or seems to have
hopped on an emotional roller coaster without warning, and there is always that second or third child who is
doing things nothing like her older siblings did.
Motherhood is humbling and often we’re thirsty for someone to just tell us how to do this well. We’re all in, just
please, someone tell us how to handle all the nuances of relationship and personality, creativity and gifting, for
the unique combo of kids God has given us. Tell us what to do and we’ll get right on it.
But that is not quite what God has for us. We’re begging for rules and he is after relationship. He looked his
disciples in the eye and said “Follow me” because he wasn’t just going to tell them; he was going to show them
what it meant to seek first his kingdom.
Before his ascension, Jesus told us that it was to our advantage that he was going away because he was sending
us a helper to guide us in all truth (John 16:7,13). Do we even begin to understand how awesome that is for us? We
have a helper - the ultimate helper - to call on in our frustration and confusion, our weakness and desperation.
The next time you find yourself looking for a rule book, a better instruction guide, stand firm on this promise:
We don’t need more rules, we need more Jesus. And when we ask, we can be certain he will be near.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Katie Westenberg is a wife and mother to four, who is passionate about fighting fear and living brave. She writes
to inspire women to live their bravest lives at “I Choose Brave” and many other places online. Married for 17
years, she lives in the Pacific Northwest and enjoys small town life outside the city limits.</span>Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-56553073500611533632019-08-30T11:12:00.000-04:002019-08-30T11:12:30.649-04:00The Good Shepherd || Kelli Jordan | mops.org<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"I’ll be honest, I’m not a big fan of sheep. When I was young, we went to a petting zoo. My little five-year-old self felt cornered by the big sheep, so I ran out of the sheep pen and right into the goat island … where a goat grabbed hold of my clothes. My mom got great pictures but didn’t intervene in time to save my favorite shirt. (I don’t judge her – I’ve done very similar things as a parent.) As a general rule, I tend to avoid petting zoos, goat islands and all sheep pens. I would be a lousy shepherd.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In John 10, Jesus used the relationship between a shepherd and his sheep to help those listening grasp the idea of living the kind of life Jesus offers. In this passage, Jesus is the shepherd and we are the sheep. But Jesus isn’t just a shepherd, he is a good shepherd which makes all the difference for his sheep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Read John 10:1-15:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Very truly I tell you Pharisees, anyone who does not enter the sheep pen by the gate, but climbs in by some other way, is a thief and a robber. The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger’s voice.” </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus used this figure of speech, but the Pharisees did not understand what he was telling them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Therefore Jesus said again, “Very truly I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who have come before me are thievesand robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus is the kind of shepherd who pays attention to his flock. He knows where they are, what they need, what may be causing them stress. He is the kind of shepherd who provides exactly what his sheep need – pastures to graze in, clean water, shelter, rest. He is a steadfast and trustworthy shepherd who is always on the lookout. He is the gatekeeper –nothing comes in or goes out that he isn’t aware of. He isn’t the kind of shepherd who runs away when things get a little crazy. He loves his sheep too much, so much that he is willing to lay down his life to protect them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our theme verse for this year, John 10:10, describes the kind of life Jesus (the Good Shepherd) wants for his children (the sheep). The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Life to the full means living under the care of the Good Shepherd – growing familiar with his voice, resting in his care, protection, hospitality and life that he provides.</span><br />
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<i>Kelli Jordan is a mom, grandma and mentor living in the Kansas City area. She walked into her first MOPS meeting 25
years ago and now supports moms and leaders at MOPS International as Leadership Development Manager. She loves
reading, game shows and is always willing to meet up for a glass of iced tea.</i>Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-351224667482085252019-05-19T21:51:00.000-04:002019-05-19T21:51:18.358-04:002019-2020 Theme RevealThe Theme for the 2019-2020 year is To The Full. See the video for the full theme reveal!<br />
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<iframe allow="autoplay; fullscreen" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/327159482?color=D7C5C4" width="640"></iframe><br />
<a href="https://vimeo.com/327159482">To The Full</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/mopsinternational">MOPS International</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-83573367831425000592018-09-16T16:17:00.001-04:002018-09-16T16:29:41.455-04:00A fresh start and an open heart...<span style="font-family: inherit;">By Taryn Ramsammy</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ever since this Florida girl has moved up north, Fall has been my favorite season. Since becoming a mom, September in particular has always brought this wonderful feeling of renewing and refreshing. September was the month we became parents and accepted our first placement of foster sons, and since then every year that day feels like our family birthday, where we reflect on the past year and dream about the next. Now that our oldest kiddos are school aged we have an even more literal new year starting every year at this time and I think I look forward to it more than actual New Year's. 😝 It's such a blessing to feel like I have a clean slate and a fresh start at whatever I'm striving for, and my hope for this new year of MOPS is that all of you feel that too!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My first year in MOPS, I was a mess! I had three babies, and zero local momma friends. Our family is 1000 miles away. My husband is in exam cycles twice a year. So on top of being tired and stretched thin, what I remember most about that first year of motherhood was the </span>loneliness.<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Back then I was a newborn photographer, and one of my clients came for a session. I know she had to have seen a little bit of crazy in my eyes because after chatting for a bit she looked at me and said, "It's time you join MOPS." Y’all. She was so right. I set my alarm and was probably the first person registered that year. I was desperate. But it turns out I was also real proud.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Either the crazy was still in my eyes (very likely) or maybe I had HELP ME written on my forehead (also entirely plausible) because from the first meeting I was surrounded with so many offers of support—from women I had just met. It was so foreign to me! I’ve always been a talker, so sharing at my table came natural. But I think that’s where I expected it to stop, because that’s how I had been going for so long—vent on the phone to my sister about whatever aspect of mom life I was particularly struggling with that week, then hang up and make it work on my own. So wasn’t the meeting just going to be another vent session? NOPE. These women didn’t want to just hear my struggles. They wanted to help me through them. But again I was too proud.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That whole year outside of meetings or play dates, I stuck to myself. In my head accepting that offer of help was admitting that I was failing the mom game hard. If I was taking their help, then clearly they were doing way better than me because I definitely wasn’t put together enough at that point to be offering anyone help. (Turns out the real reason I wasn’t offering was because I had NO FRIENDS to offer help to. #humbling 😂🤦🏻♀️) But honestly, I had prayed and longed for motherhood for years. God had finally fulfilled this deepest desire of mine so shouldn’t I be eternally grateful and just put my big girl britches on and figure it out like all of them seemed to have done? That's the </span>headspace<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I was in. That's how I thought it was supposed to be. But y’all. God does not intend us to walk this road alone.</span></span><br />
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And let us consider how to stir up </div>
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one another to love and good works, </div>
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not neglecting to meet together, </div>
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as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, </div>
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and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.</div>
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<b>-Hebrews 10:24-25 </b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Motherhood is hard y'all. Really dang hard. Especially in these little years where we're losing more sleep than we did in college, where we're usually covered in at least one other person's puke (there's another college connection there--but honestly I'm just too tired to come up with it), where our privacy has evaporated and we go hours and hours some days without any adult conversation. We may be out of control of most of that. But that last part is up to us. We might not be in charge of how many diapers we are going to change that day or how many questions we will have to answer about the inner toddler workings of the world or how many LEGO’s are going to get crushed into our feet. But we are entirely in control of how we are going to fill our soul, of who we are going to surround ourselves with, of how we are going to strive to focus on the blessings before us. For me that comes in large part through fellowship. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I so regret sticking to myself that first year, for in the few that have followed when I have allowed myself to let my guard down I have gained so much. I have built such amazing friendships. I have experienced the grace and love that comes from not only receiving support but also giving it. I have learned from women who have broadened my faith and made me a better mother, wife, and over all human being. So my prayer for you all this year is that you don’t waste the time I did second guessing yourself or feeling less than or unworthy of support, for we know those anxieties are of the enemy’s making. Instead I pray that you would come into this year with an open heart. Allow yourself to open up to your table, or to the mom you meet at a play date or in line for breakfast. Share your heart and take advantage of the support God has put before you. Surrender daringly, and breathe freely here for you are fearfully and wonderfully made and we are so grateful to have you. 💛</span><br />
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Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-26104552951441180022018-01-29T12:03:00.001-05:002018-01-29T12:46:09.272-05:00Before My EyesBy Cassie Glubzinski<br />
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On Thursday last week my daughters and I had an epic start to our day. My oldest is in kindergarten, and she rides the bus to school. I live right off of a traffic circle, but our neighborhood is not usually busy. Often I let my girls run ahead on the sidewalk, but on that day I told them to wait for me for some reason, and I quickly discovered why.<br />
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There's a young man in our neighborhood who attends high school. He's a good kid, but he is most definitely not known for his exemplary driving. Thursday morning was no exception.<br />
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As my daughters and I approached the edge of the inner traffic circle and prepared to cross the far side of it I saw this young man's truck coming way too fast (and getting ready to cut the circle by going the wrong way) toward us at the same time as I saw a dump truck coming the other way.<br />
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I literally grabbed both girls tighter and jerked them back toward the center of the landscaped area of the circle, and we stood less than twenty feet from a head on collision.<br />
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Thankfully, no one was hurt, but my heart would not calm. I frantically looked down checking to make sure both my daughters were okay. By the exclamations coming from their mouths I could tell that they were, but I felt far from alright.<br />
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"Mommy! That truck crashed!"<br />
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"Yeah! He didn't go the right way!"<br />
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I had to walk my children around a crash site just to get my daughter on the bus.<br />
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As I walked I found myself holding tighter to their little hands, to the point that my youngest asked me to let go because I was hurting her. I apologized and picked her up, but I wasn't willing to let her go.<br />
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Once I got Gemma on the bus I walked back and checked with the two involved in the crash. They were taking pictures of the damage to both vehicles.<br />
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As I approached them my first question was if they were okay. They both assured me that the only damage done was to the vehicles, and that they were fine. Upon further questioning I found out they had not already called the police, so I took the liberty of doing that myself.<br />
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The teen who had caused the accident was literally shaking once I got off the phone with the police.<br />
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"Are you alright? Are you cold? Do you need another jacket? Or would you like to sit in the cab of your truck until the cops arrive?" I asked him.<br />
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"No. I'm fine, but my dad is on his way, and he's going to kick my a*%^," he told me while I held little Evolet in my arms.<br />
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Of course, she informed him that was a bad word, but he didn't apologize. He just walked away.<br />
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When he walked back after I had given my name and number to the other drive in the event that they needed a witness he sharply asked me, "What do you mean you were a witness?"<br />
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"I was walking my daughters to the bus stop when you had the accident. You almost hit us, but I pulled them back in time to keep them from getting hurt," I told him.<br />
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"Well, the cops and my dad are on their way, so I think you've officially done enough, don't you?" he smarmily replied.<br />
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Wow. Attitude much?<br />
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I'm surprised a fly didn't make its way into my mouth with how low my jaw was dropped. After a moment of getting my bearings I opened my mouth with my own rude retort...<br />
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"Hey. I know you're upset and scared, but you broke the traffic laws. They are there for a reason, and you should be grateful that you get to learn your lesson without anyone getting hurt and without any casualties, because that could have very easily happened."<br />
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Wait! Were did my own snarky retort go!?!<br />
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Actually, scratch that... Thank goodness for the Holy Spirit taking the words right out of my mouth and placing a better response upon my lips.<br />
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He just looked at me. Stunned.<br />
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Then he turned without a word and walked around his crashed truck.<br />
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I was fuming. Standing there a waiting for an apology from this kid who nearly killed my children.<br />
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He nearly killed my children! All for an extra two seconds in a traffic circle.<br />
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And that's when God whispered in my ear, "My Son was killed. Actually murdered. And even though some who are to blame have apologized, many others have not."<br />
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Oh. My. Goodness. Me.<br />
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I stood there looking after this punk kid who had caused this accident, and I was angry and frustrated and downright mad, and God was telling me to forgive and let go. Even though this teen hadn't asked for the forgiveness, I needed to extend it.<br />
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What an incredible morning, right?<br />
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But even more amazing: what an incredible God. Am I right?<br />
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His own Son was beaten, mocked, scorned, humiliated, and left to die. Murdered really. And even while dying his thoughts were not of himself. He said, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do."<br />
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My translation of that on Thursday morning was, "Forgive him. He's just a kid who thinks he invincible and untouchable. I'm still working on him."<br />
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My kids are totally okay. They had an exciting story to share with Daddy when he got home, but I had some serious heart work to do with God that day. I had some of my own resentfulness and bitterness to release and lay at the foot of the cross.<br />
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Forgiveness is hard. Especially when it is deeply personal. But keep in mind, nothing could be more personal than the murder of child, and God knows exactly how that feels. And He gives the most amazing example for us to follow in it.<br />
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So, to the young man who attends high school and lives somewhere in my neighborhood. I forgive you.<br />
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And to the God who gave everything to have a relationship with me, forgive me for my stubbornness and pride.<br />
<br />Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-77550135498684586762017-12-24T10:22:00.002-05:002017-12-24T10:22:43.417-05:00Fishing for... What?By Cassie Glubzinski<br />
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The holidays are a time that bring back fond memories to me, and this year the memories are ones of going fishing with my grandfathers.<br />
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My mom's dad (Papaw Larry) took my cousin and I fishing infrequently. I remember he would use Wheaties cereal as bait. To this day it cracks me up that Wheaties is my favorite cereal.<br />
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[There you go, ladies. With one cereal you can catch a pretty decent sized bass as well as a man who helps with the laundry and dishes!]<br />
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Now, my dad's dad (Papaw Roger) lived on a large piece of property, and his house had a deck that overlooked what we called the lake. Really, it was more of an oversized pond, but to a kid it's a lake. He would show my sister and I how to hook a worm, how to cast a line, and then how to wait...<br />
And wait...<br />
And wait...<br />
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Patience is a virtue that was generously granted to many folks in the world.<br />
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I'm not one of those people.<br />
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Seriously.<br />
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So waiting has never been something I was good at, but I've always had a fondness and an affinity for fishing. I've just changed my bait.<br />
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Here's how I now fish:<br />
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Me: "Ugh! I'm pretty sure I gained ten pounds since I last went on a run! My jeans are so tight, and I officially have a muffin top."<br />
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Friend: "No way! You look fantastic! You've maybe gained an ounce, and that's being generous."<br />
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Fished for a compliment, and I got it.<br />
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And another:<br />
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Me: "My kids are completely insane. Sometimes I just look at them and say, 'Seriously, who is your mother?'"<br />
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Friend: "Your daughters are incredible! And you're such an amazing mother!"<br />
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Fished for affirmation, and I got it.<br />
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And one more for the road:<br />
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Me: "I have no sense of style. I seem to only be able to wear yoga pants and a tee shirt. Every. Single. Day. Jeans if I am feeling a bit adventurous."<br />
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Friend: "You always look so cool and put together! I would never say that about you!"<br />
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Fished for a bit of self worth, and guess what? I got it.<br />
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Here's the deal, friends, I do sometimes feel down and out. There are days when I feel I'm the worst mother on earth, days when I feel I'm the ugliest creature to walk, and days when I don't think I am worth the love and affection my family (especially my husband) and my friends bestow on me. And so when those days and moments come, I start fishing.<br />
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And I'm impatient for it, too. I will repeat my comment multiple times until I hear the words I think I need to hear; the words I think I <i>deserve</i> to hear.<br />
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As our family has been going through this time of advent together leading up to this holiday I was struck by how the Lord was working in my heart. Ponder this with me for a moment: God, the Creator of the universe, chose to send His Son, His only child, to earth. Not to be a king in the earthly sense, but to die, a horrible, humiliating and degrading death. And He did it all for us.<br />
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For me. For you. For all of us.<br />
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Whoa.<br />
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Here I am going fishing, and God sent His Son to die for me.<br />
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I have some really whacked out priorities.<br />
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Now, I'm not saying we shouldn't encourage one another. We absolutely should! God designed people to be with other people, and we need to be lifting one another up in the Spirit.<br />
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But I was not designed to fish for compliments, for affirmation, or for human-given self worth. He has already provided me with all of that. When I'm fishing for these things I'm only trying to bring myself up a bit from my inner slump. I'm simply trying to be impressive.<br />
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I have been reading great book this week that my sister gave me called "Loving My Actual Life" by Alexandra Kuykendall. In one of the chapters she quotes her pastor saying, "I stopped impressing people a long time ago. I figured out that when I'm busy impressing them, I'm too busy to love them."<br />
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Wow.<br />
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In my selfish quest to fish for worldly encouragement and love I have completely missed the mark on loving the people God has placed in front of me.<br />
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Jesus was not interested in impressing anyone. He loved them. He was the son of an unwed virgin mother and raised in a humble carpenter's home. He sought out the broken and down-trodden. He befriended the ostracized and outcast. He became a brother to the single orphans and a friend to the friendless. He was, and is, and always will be, all about love.<br />
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And here I am, fishing for some sort of affirmation, some bit of self worth, some snippet of a compliment.<br />
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Get your head on straight, Cassie.<br />
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Jesus himself had actual fishermen follow him. He told them, "Come, and I will make you fishers of men." In other words, "Your casting your net the wrong way. Let me show you how it's done."<br />
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How powerful would it be if I simply fished for people to love? What if I chose to fish for the outcasts and the ostracized? What if I started fishing for ways to serve and love on others, rather than ways for them to serve and love on me?<br />
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Don't get me wrong, this is a really tough pill for me to swallow. But I need it. I need it everyday.<br />
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D.L. Moody was quoted saying, "You impress from afar, but you impact up close."<br />
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I know Jesus never tried to impress anyone. He was too busy loving them because of the love he was showing his heavenly Father. But nonetheless, Jesus was impressive. He did many miraculous things, he spoke with great oratorical ability, and he told stories like none other. From afar, he was impressive to many without even trying. And if I'm honest, when I stop trying to be impressive is when I am actually told that I am impressive. Make sense right? Because when I'm not living for me, God shines to bright, and He is the impressive One. Just like Jesus.<br />
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Jesus was so very impressive from afar.<br />
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But man oh man. He really impacted up close.<br />
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So this holiday season I'm going to try to be more like that. I'm going to fish for others, instead of fishing for myself. I'm going to give of myself, because Christ gave me all. I'm going to realize my worth is found in him, and I don't need compliments, I don't need affirmation, and I don't need self-worth that is given from people. It won't last. It never has.<br />
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When I realize my worth is found solely in Christ, I'm awestruck by how permanent that can be. I'm praying you will be awestruck, too.<br />
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So, what do you say? Wanna go fishing?Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-91558019884107807262017-12-14T22:16:00.000-05:002017-12-14T22:16:00.004-05:00No Stolen JoyBy Cassie Glubzinski<br />
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Thanksgiving has come and gone, and December is well underway. But this holiday season has been a particularly rough one for our family...<br />
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You see, my husband's family lives in Michigan, and my family is spread through Indiana and Kentucky. Our typical Thanksgiving get together with my father had to be cancelled this year due to his recent job change and move. But this turned out to be a blessing none of us could have predicted...<br />
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Now, I know my posts are typically laced with some of the hilarious shenanigans my kiddos have been known to do, but tonight I feel the Lord calling me to be open, raw, and honest in ways I've not yet been.<br />
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You see, my husband and I had been trying for baby number three for a while when we found out we were expecting in July of this year. We were truly heartbroken when that baby was miscarried at only six weeks in early August. However, we still wanted to try again, and God granted our prayers.<br />
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We found out we were expecting again in early October. It was a very busy time with school beginning and my husband's internship underway while he still took classes, but our excitement was there all the same. God was giving us another baby!<br />
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Through the pregnancy I was struck by how good I felt. I had rough pregnancies with my daughters (nausea, vomiting, morning sickness that lasted all day), so this felt like a breeze! I was beyond excited to go to my first appointment the week of Thanksgiving, and exactly one day before I hit nine weeks.<br />
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A few days before said appointment, however, I received a call from my father telling me that my grandfather (his dad) was in the ICU back home. He had several ailments that were reeking havoc on his body, and my dad was travelling to Indiana to see him. I asked if I needed to come, and his response was immediate: "Stay where you are. I'll keep you posted. You just keep you, your family and that little one inside you healthy."<br />
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The day of the appointment the doctors and nurses were sweet and kind. They took my vitals, they weighed me (that's our favorite part, right?), they ushered me into the exam room, and I sat on the table with my eyes locked on the ultrasound machine. I was anxious for my grandfather, but I had a horrid feeling about what I might get told. Perhaps because of our recent miscarriage? But I had done all the doctor had asked, and my husband and I had been given the go ahead to try again. Everything should be fine, right?<br />
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I watched with bated breath as the screen illuminated with a picture of a little circle, and I immediately thought <i>this isn't right</i>.<br />
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"Are you sure of the first day of your last cycle?" the doctor asked me.<br />
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I assured her that I had told her correctly.<br />
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"The baby pictured here is only showing exactly six weeks of development, and there's no heartbeat. I'm sorry, but unless you miscalculated, you will be miscarrying soon. I'm truly so sorry..."<br />
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Every other word was lost to me. The week of Thanksgiving, and my husband and I would be mourning the loss of another child.<br />
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The doctor and nurse left so I could get dressed, and I found myself taking deep breaths in order to not start crying. I was so grateful to have left my youngest daughter with a dear friend while my oldest daughter was at school. As soon as I was able to get the car the floodgate opened, and I drove away from Walter Reed with tears streaming down my face.<br />
<br />
I called family as soon as I was able to do so, and I wept upon my friend's shoulder that afternoon. The next day I received a call from my father that my grandpa had been moved to Hospice. I had to use that conversation to tell my dad that the bleeding started. My Thanksgiving week was spent in and out of the ER, with my phone in hand waiting for updates on my grandfather's condition.<br />
<br />
And despite all this Thanksgiving turned out to be completely wonderful. I kid you not, it was an awesome Thanksgiving day. My husband, daughters and I spent a lazy day together watching the parades and football, and eating a frozen pizza because that's what my kiddos wanted. Despite the physical and emotional pain I was feeling I found neither could even begin to steal away the joy God placed inside me at being with the family in front of me.<br />
<br />
This was not our first miscarriage...it was our third. And we name every child. As I sat curled up with a blanket and my trusty Wonder Woman cup I looked at my family and God spoke silently to my heart as a Comforter in my time of sorrow.<br />
<br />
My babies, Alex, Indy and Kestrel, will never have to skin a knee. They will never break a bone, they will never have a broken heart, they are never even going to have a paper cut. Their only memories will be ones of heaven, and what a gift that is for me as their mother, and for A.J. as their father. My babies are not lost. They were never lost. They are tucked safely in the Savior's arms, and one day I will hold them close.<br />
<br />
The Tuesday after Thanksgiving my grandfather passed away, and while my heart grieves for my grandmother with whom he was married for sixty years, I rejoice in knowing my three babies have another amazing great grandfather to smile and laugh with until I can join them in heaven someday.<br />
<br />
And even now, as I write this, with tears on my face, I am so joyous. I have such hope. I rest in such peace. And I am so very thankful... first for the God I serve, second for the husband He gave me, and third for the girls He granted me the privilege of raising with A.J.<br />
<br />
The song 'It Is Well' has been on my mind so very much. The words speak so greatly to me even now..<br />
<br />
When peace like a river attendeth my way<br />
When sorrows like sea billows roll<br />
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say<br />
"It is well, it is well with my soul"<br />
<br />
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight<br />
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll<br />
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend<br />
Even so, it is well with my soul!<br />
<br />
We will have peace. We will have sorrows. But only with Christ in our hearts can we ensure that nothing, NOTHING, will ever steal our joy.<br />
<br />
I challenge each of you reading this: whatever you are facing, whatever trial or triumph, do NOT let it steal the joy you have found in Christ Jesus.Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-75617758031865388552017-10-24T06:54:00.002-04:002017-10-24T06:54:51.816-04:00Ignorance is HystericalBy Cassie Glubzinski<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I love when my kids play well together. Don't you?<br />
<br />
I have to actually state that I love this because it doesn't happen as frequently as I would like.<br />
<br />
Yeah. That.<br />
<br />
When there is silence, I'm a bit concerned. When there are tears, I'm on the move. When there are combined giggles, I'm beside myself with joy!<br />
<br />
The other day the girls were in the midst of fits of giggles. They had taken some of their toy pots and pans from their play kitchen and were running around my house with them on their heads.<br />
<br />
So. Cute.<br />
<br />
I smiled at the girls and said to them, "You girls are sillier than a bag of monkeys! What are you two up to?"<br />
<br />
Gemma, my five year, stopped right in front of me and said, "Mommy! Mommy! We're potheads!"<br />
<br />
Ummm... no you're not.<br />
<br />
My smile swiftly changed into an expression of shock, and then one of complete hysteria. I seriously laughed so hard I cried, and of course my kids thought it was because of their antics, so they began chanting "Potheads! Potheads! We are potheads!" at the top of their lungs, which just made me laugh even harder.<br />
<br />
I set them straight after a bit, once I was actually able to catch my breath.<br />
<br />
And then, as I got to thinking about it, I realized how much I miss that. I miss my naiveté at times. I miss not knowing the world so well, and just being able to make someone smile because of crazy antics or one silly comment. I miss my untainted life.<br />
<br />
But of course, that made me realize that my life was never untainted.<br />
<br />
You got that? NEVER.<br />
<br />
The Bible says, "...all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23). We all missed the mark. And our lives were tainted with our first breaths.<br />
<br />
My mom says it this way, "Isn't funny that you don't have to teach your child how to sin? Rather, you have to teach them how to obey God."<br />
<br />
So. True.<br />
<br />
And amidst this dismal outlook, we receive the greatest promise: Jesus Christ. Scripture says, "God made him who <i>had no sin to be sin for us</i>, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." (2 Corinthians 5:21) [emphasis mine].<br />
<br />
Christ himself, the only one without sin, became the sacrifice to wipe away our sins. When we accept Christ, and God looks at us, He no longer sees our sin, but Christ's sacrifice. He sees righteousness.<br />
<br />
Mind = Blown.<br />
<br />
So, even though we can never be 'untainted' we can live knowing our lives are His and for His use. We can choose to focus on the good that He brings, and we can be tools to bring about more good.<br />
<br />
It's not about naiveté, it's about grace. It's about love. It's about His sacrifice.<br />
<br />
I'll never look at potheads the same again.<br />
<i></i><i></i><br />Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-36130454089999458212017-09-20T17:50:00.000-04:002017-09-20T17:50:01.424-04:00Sharing is Caring... right?By Cassie Glubzinski<br />
<b><br /></b>
I have a kid in kindergarten.<br />
[deep breath]<br />
My daughter is already in kindergarten...<br />
[breathe again]<br />
Seriously, where did the time go?<br />
<br />
She came home from school the other day and was so very excited. She held out for my inspection her first check out from the school library.<br />
<br />
Very. Big. Deal.<br />
<br />
Smiling from ear to ear she showed me, with no small amount of pride, the book that she wanted me to read to her when we got inside.<br />
<br />
Now, I had to cock my head to the side and ask her sweetly, "Honeybee, we have this book at home already. Was there a reason you wanted to check it out from the library?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, Mommy. I don't like sharing it with sister, so I got my own book to borrow."<br />
<br />
Well, that in and of itself was funny, except for the fact that the book is called "Llama Llama, Time To Share".<br />
<br />
Sorry, Llama, but your message has not been received by my five year old.<br />
<br />
But even as I was thinking of this I was also reminded of how I hoard things I think are mine. That's my car. That's my book. That's my computer. That's my kitchen. That's my house. That's my church. That's my...fill in the blank. And then I began to contemplate the heavenly perspective God would want me to adopt...<br />
<br />
That's God's house, and He's letting me live in it.<br />
That's God's kitchen, and He's letting me cook in it.<br />
That's God's car, and He's letting me drive it.<br />
That's God's computer, and He's letting me use it.<br />
That's God's book, and He's letting me read it.<br />
That's God's church, and He's calling me to serve in it.<br />
<br />
A heavenly perspective leaves no room for selfishness, and trying to communicate that concept to kids is difficult. But it's not impossible. It is simply a process. And God granted me an amazing opportunity to cultivate a heavenly perspective in my children's little minds.<br />
<br />
You see, just like Gemma got to borrow a book from the library, one she would return the next week, we get to borrow things from God. It's our responsibility to take good care of them, and when He needs them for a different purpose, we need to return them gratefully.<br />
<br />
Mitch Albom wrote in his famous book, "Have a Little Faith" about how when we are born our hands are in fists. We hold tight to anything and everything we can. But when we die our hands are open, because we realize nothing in this world was ever meant to be held onto so tightly. Our souls were meant for worship in Heaven someday, and all we need is to let go.<br />
<br />
Sharing is caring, indeed. I am praying this week that God will show me when He wants to be share, even when it will be uncomfortable.Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-7372397877443018142017-09-01T16:59:00.001-04:002017-09-01T17:01:07.529-04:00Diapers and Pull Ups and Panties... Oh my!So... It's officially one of the least favorite times for any momma at my house.<br />
Ready?<br />
Brace yourself...<br />
<br />
Potty. Training.<br />
<br />
I hate it. The constant wonder of whether an accident is lurking, or if I am going to be able to make it to the grocery bathroom before a clean up is needed on aisle four, and every other part.<br />
<br />
I try really hard to get my kiddo excited about the prospect of being a "big girl" and wearing "big girl panties". As such, I took my little one shopping at Burlington Coat Factory (because it's awesomely inexpensive) and I walked her right up to the toddler and little girl panty display. I quickly grab every package that is her size (all three of them) and kneel in front of her. And I'm excited, because she looks excited, and usually that's a good sign, right? That means she's processing the fact that she is close, so very close, to closing the pull up and diaper chapter of her life for good!<br />
<br />
So, kneeling in front of my curly haired cutie I ask her which one she likes best. And then, with bated breath, I wait to see how she will respond. Her little face scrunched up, and her eyes turned more pensive. After a few brief moments she told me, "Mommy, I'm poopy-yucky."<br />
<br />
Well, that went well.<br />
<br />
My kid officially pooped in her pull up while shopping with me for big girl panties.<br />
<br />
Best. Mom. Ever.<br />
<br />
And after she told me I did what any sane mother of a two and a half year old would do. I cracked up. I'm talking full blown belly laugh right in the middle of Burlington Coat Factory. <br />
<br />
Classic.<br />
<br />
I also bought all three packages of panties for her since I figured she would probably need the back ups.<br />
<br />
This hasn't been the easiest summer for our family, but I had been praying that God would give me the courage and freedom to let go. And for me, laughing is a way of letting go.<br />
<br />
So today, if you haven't already, ask God for the opportunity to let go a bit. I'm praying He will bring you something hilarious to share with all of us when we meet later this month!<br />
<br />Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-20339965490122311152017-08-14T16:27:00.000-04:002017-08-14T16:27:18.849-04:00Tombs and Templesby Cassie Glubzinski<br />
<br />
Summers are insane. Can I get an 'Amen'?<br />
<br />
For some reason I spend the Spring looking forward to what I've idolized as a much needed 'summer break', and when it comes I find I've gotten whiplash from the sheer amount of things needing done: gutting the kids' toys and clothes now that the seasons have changed, packing the luggage for a car trip to go see family, planning outings and play dates almost every day in order to avoid my kids' boredom, contacting long lost college friends in hopes of reunions or at least long talks to catch up, and so much more. Life, at least at our house, tends to accelerate to alarming speeds as soon as 'breaks' appear on our calendar.<br />
<br />
This summer was no different. The entire month of July saw us all home as a family for a whopping five days. Five days! and three of those five days my youngest daughter was sick with rotavirus (hooray for ER visits!). Yeah, we have a tendency to fill our schedule to the brim and then struggle to stay afloat...<br />
<br />
But this summer brought a new joy to our family as well. My husband and I have been trying for eight months to have number three. Now, eight months isn't really all that long of a period of time, but for us it was unexpected. We've never had trouble conceiving before, so this was weighing on my heart heavily, and I was beginning to feel discouraged. I wanted so much to have another child, and I felt like a failure every month I didn't conceive.<br />
<br />
But then I got home for one night before heading back out on the road, and God blessed me with a positive pregnancy test. I was beyond thrilled! As soon as my husband came home from work I shared the amazing news with him, and we found a fun way to tell our parents as well. I was only five weeks along, but I was already so deeply in love with this little child.<br />
<br />
We made our way to New York for a wedding, and then to Pennsylvania to pick up our kiddos from my husband's parents. They, too, were excited for us, and our daughters vehemently insisted that they wanted only a baby brother (Newsflash: mommies and daddies don't get to pick the gender of their baby). It was a treasured moment.<br />
<br />
We got home and began telling a few close friends and dearly loved ones, and our joy was great to share. I felt so amazingly content, excited, and simply full.<br />
<br />
Then Wednesday I started to feel funny. I had some pains through the day in my abdomen, but didn't want to think the worst. When my husband was getting ready to board the Metro I had him meet me at Walter Reed. After a few hours in the ER our fears were confirmed: our baby was gone.<br />
<br />
This was our second miscarriage. The first was in between our girls, and I was eight weeks along. This baby left us at only six weeks, yet the hurt seemed to linger on a far deeper level. All those feelings of failure resurfaced on a new level, and they made valiant attempts to consume me.<br />
<br />
But God is so good. The morning after the news of the miscarriage I was reading my Bible. I happened to be in 1 Corinthians, and was reading the passage about sexual morality. Paul is exhorting the Corinthians to remain pure, because their bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit (verse 19). The thought resonated with me. I had awoken to the feeling that my body was a tomb. And the Lord used that moment to remind me that my body is His temple.<br />
<br />
My body was not designed to be a tomb. I was designed for worship. I was designed for a purpose. I may feel like a failure sometimes, but I am never a failure because God still resides in me. I am His temple.<br />
<br />
<b>"Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies." - 1 Corinthians 6:19-20</b><br />
<b></b><br />Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-8823366627484823162017-07-12T16:33:00.001-04:002017-07-12T16:33:40.632-04:00The Girl Needs HelpBy Cassie Glubzinski<br />
<br />
<br />
So my youngest has been sick this week.<br />
<br />
Rotavirus.<br />
<br />
So.<br />
Not.<br />
Fun.<br />
<br />
She's been miserable and downright lethargic. Poor thing hasn't even really had much of an appetite either (which is HIGHLY unusual for her).<br />
<br />
This morning I took her to the ER because she had been complaining that her tummy hurt while writhing in pain quite a bit yesterday and last night. Broke my heart.<br />
<br />
After seeing the doc, getting some meds, and eating two grape popsicles we were on our way back home with strict instructions to quarantine her, disinfect everything, and call if anything changed for the worst.<br />
<br />
As we gathered up our belongings to leave I set Evolet down on the hospital bed in order to pack everything away. She insisted on keeping her water cup and her snuggle blanket in her arms, and she had a death grip on her little cup of Cheerios. Her small arms weren't quite able to wrap around all of her treasures. She looked at me with the sweetest little expression and quietly stated, "Mommy, the girl needs help."<br />
<br />
I kind of froze for a moment. Those five little words were so powerful to me in that situation. All night last night I was up with this little cutie trying to comfort her while praying we could both get some sleep, I kept thinking about my to do list. I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon, we have a dear friend coming to town tomorrow and staying the night, my five year old has sports camp this week that's twenty minutes away (we are in the car quite a bit), we have a ceremony to attend on Friday, a concert Friday night, boating on Saturday as well as a surprise birthday party Saturday night. We have church on Sunday, and I have another meeting Sunday afternoon. And then the icing on the cake is that we are leaving for vacation on Monday, and I still need to pack.<br />
<br />
This was what was running through my head all night last night. How was I going to make it all happen flawlessly? I'm the stay at home wife and mom, and it's my job, exclusively, to get all this done and taken care of [not to mention meals, the laundry, cleaning the house, and of course Mommy's Chauffeur Service].<br />
<br />
But looking into this sweet little girl's eyes as she tried desperately to juggle her treasures I realized that even though she said she needed help, really I was the one who needed help.<br />
<br />
This girl needs help.<br />
<br />
I need help realizing it's NOT THE END OF THE WORLD when life doesn't go exactly as I think it should.<br />
<br />
There is such beauty to be seen in the chaos. It's a colorful mosaic of life if we let it be.<br />
<br />
God never intended for me to dwell on my to do list. I did that completely on my own, and I needed His help in that moment to simply be in the moment.<br />
<br />
I needed to look at this time of comforting my little girl for what it was: the opportunity to snuggle my precious daughter, because she won't be that little to snuggle with for long. I needed to chuck the to do list because it was distracting me from my true job: being a godly wife and mother.<br />
<br />
You can't make your faith a box you check. It's so much more than a task. It's an identity.<br />
<br />
And if you are having trouble getting to that point pray the same prayer I did:<br />
The girl needs help.Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-10760789785669856892017-06-26T18:47:00.001-04:002017-06-26T18:47:08.363-04:00Out of the Mouths of Babes...By Cassie Glubzinski<br />
<br />
You know that moment when your kid opens her mouth, and you hold your breath because you know, deep in your gut you know, that whatever your kiddo is about to say is gonna be either epically profound or epically embarrassing?<br />
<br />
Yeah, you know that moment.<br />
<br />
About three years ago my daughter, Gemma, and I were leaving Target in Arizona. While walking across the parking lot we both heard a man on his phone. His tense posture, gruff appearance, and loud conversation (which included a very colorful and animated vocabulary) caused me to allow him a wide berth. I weaved around cars in order to get to our vehicle, all the while hoping that the man would not pay us any mind.<br />
<br />
So of course he saw us as soon as he hung up.<br />
<br />
And of course he had to say something.<br />
<br />
"What?!" He screamed at me. "You got a problem with how I talk? Why don't you just say so rather than avoid me like the plague!?"<br />
<br />
You know that moment when you have said nothing, and yet a can of proverbial worms has been opened?<br />
<br />
Yeah, you know that moment.<br />
<br />
"We're just heading to our car, sir." I said quietly, ushering my two year old over to our car and trying desperately to avoid the man.<br />
<br />
"That's what I thought!" He yelled at me. "Better keep that pretty little girl away!"<br />
<br />
Okay, here's what you need to know about me. You can say whatever you want about me, but as soon as my kids are involved I am a <b>WILD MAMA BEAR</b>. I froze, and turned slowly toward him with deadly calm. And even though I stood a good foot shorter than him, the look I gave him was one of fierce protectiveness. I opened my mouth, ready with words that would make even the foulest of mouths blush when my little Gemma opened her mouth.<br />
<br />
"You know, sir, Jesus loves everyone! Even when you are mad, he loves you!" she shouted excitedly to him. And in a blink the entire atmosphere shifted. My mouth was agape, his face softened, his shoulders dropped, and my stiff back relaxed.<br />
<br />
Out of the mouths of babes.<br />
<br />
My knee-jerk reaction was blowing a bridge and building a wall, while my daughter's was kindness and love. My only thought was hatred and judgment. Hers was calm understanding. I was burdened with hostility. She was burdened with humility.<br />
<br />
All I could do was stare.<br />
<br />
Then, as if nothing was amiss, Gemma asked me, "Can I have ice cream when we get home?"<br />
<br />
Girl, you just put me in my place in a humbling way. You can have the whole box of Klondikes.<br />
<br />
The man looked at her, then at me, then at her again before his head swung backward and he began laughing. Like, a full blown belly laugh that was neither contained nor guarded.<br />
<br />
My daughter had bridged a gap that was miles wide, with one simple statement.<br />
<br />
How often do we judge others and only think of ourselves? How often do we ignore and look the other way when God calls us to reach out? To be His hands and feet?<br />
<br />
In the book of Matthew Jesus tells a story of sheep and goats (Matthew 25:31-46). Jesus explains that on the day of judgment everyone will be divided before the King, either on His right or His left. Those who know Him (the sheep) will be on His right, and the ones who do not (the goats) will be on His left. Here's what He says:<br />
<br />
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<b><i><span style="color: purple;"><span class="text Matt-25-34" id="en-NIV-24043" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">34 </span>“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24043V" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24043V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> prepared for you since the creation of the world.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24043W" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24043W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Matt-25-35" id="en-NIV-24044" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">35 </span>For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24044X" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24044X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Matt-25-36" id="en-NIV-24045" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">36 </span>I needed clothes and you clothed me,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24045Y" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24045Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> I was sick and you looked after me,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24045Z" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24045Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> I was in prison and you came to visit me.’<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24045AA" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24045AA" title="See cross-reference AA">AA</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span></span></i></b></div>
<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<b><i><span style="color: purple;"><span class="text Matt-25-37" id="en-NIV-24046" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">37 </span>“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?</span> <span class="text Matt-25-38" id="en-NIV-24047" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">38 </span>When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?</span> <span class="text Matt-25-39" id="en-NIV-24048" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">39 </span>When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’</span></span></i></b></div>
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<span class="text Matt-25-40" id="en-NIV-24049" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><b><i><span style="color: purple;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">40 </span>“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’</span></i></b><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24049AB" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24049AB" title="See cross-reference AB">AB</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Matt-25-40" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">Today I challenge you, what have you done for Jesus? What have you done for the least of these? </span>I ask you, what is your knee-jerk response? What is your go to reaction? Is it hostility or humility? Is it judgment or kindness? Is it hatred or love?</div>
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Out of the mouths of babes...</div>
Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-81833166289569432412017-06-14T17:40:00.002-04:002017-06-14T17:40:40.379-04:00Popsicles and PonderingsBy Cassie Glubzinski<br />
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I am happily blessed to have two sweet daughters who take part in a daily exercise called 'Rest Time', but I secretly call it 'Mommy Sanity Time'. My oldest just turned five, and my youngest is two and a half.<br />
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The other day I went to get my girls up from rest time and found my oldest (Gemma) still sleeping. Knowing she had had an exhausting day I went ahead and let her sleep, but my youngest (Evolet) came downstairs with me. She began playing with her little people, and seemed completely content. So in true mom-fashion I hurriedly finished all the tasks I wasn't fully able to complete while my children slumbered. I was running around putting away clean dishes, folding the last bit of laundry, and clearing the table before trying to figure out what we would eat for dinner.<br />
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During this time I heard Evolet talking under her breath. I walked a bit closer and asked her if everything was okay. She looked up and showed me the two little people in her hands: Prince Eric and Princess Ariel.<br />
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"Oh," I told her. "Are Eric and Ariel talking?"<br />
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"Yes," she informed me seriously. "They are playing together and sharing."<br />
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"Sharing is very good. Are they also going to eat together?"<br />
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"Yeah, Mommy. They are having chicken nuggets and apple slices."<br />
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"Wow. Eric is taking Ariel to dinner? Sounds kind of like a date to me."<br />
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I had to keep myself from laughing out loud at the expression on my daughter's face. She looked exasperated! She sighed heavily and shook her head at me as she calmly said, "Mommy, chicken nuggets aren't what you get on a date."<br />
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"Huh," I supplied. "What would make it a date?"<br />
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She pondered this a moment before looking at me with quiet confidence and said, "Popsicles."<br />
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Well, okay then.<br />
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May I take this moment to say that if a date is only a date if popsicles are involved then I have been grossly cheated by my husband. ;)<br />
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I chuckled as I turned and went upstairs to wake Gemma and bring her down to play with her sister as well. In my mind, however, there was a part of me that so grateful for her quiet confidence and her decisiveness. I was NEVER that confident or decisive when I was two, or ten, or twenty for that matter. And in that moment I realized something: God had been slowly but surely answering my prayers all along.<br />
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I think every mother deeply desires for her children to learn from her mistakes instead of having to make those same mistakes themselves. I am no different. My earnest desire to please absolutely everyone around led me to never wonder what I would want. I spent all my time and energy being a peacemaker, and it left me feeling hollow. I wasn't making peace for God's glory; I was doing it for my own comfort.<br />
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As such, I often felt like wasted space. I wouldn't make decisions because I didn't want to have to take the blame if and when things went wrong. I longed for the confidence of my peers.<br />
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In that beautiful moment, seeing my young daughter form an idea in her mind and speak so clearly about what she thought and believed, I didn't care that she thought a date was going out for popsicles. I cared that she answered with certainty and authority. My prayers to my Heavenly Father for her and her sister to be strong, poised and decisive women are coming to fruition, even at this tender young age.<br />
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I was reminded of Joshua in the Bible. He is told over and over by God to "...be strong and courageous...", and when the idea was first presented I thought, <i>well, he's following after Moses, and those are big shoes to fill. </i><br />
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But as I studied more and more I wonder if God was telling him to be strong and courageous because he was about to step far outside of his comfort zone. His decisions as leader of the Israelite nation (at that time about two million people) would have very long term repercussions. Talk about intense!<br />
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Now, I am no biblical scholar, but it is so reassuring to me that a spiritual powerhouse like Joshua was reminded repeatedly to "...be strong and courageous...", and he is told why:<br />
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Joshua 1:9 - "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, <i>for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go</i>." [emphasis mine]<br />
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Where are you needing to be strong and courageous? How can you practice? Maybe it's something as simple as telling your spouse what constitutes a date (even if it's popsicles) or maybe it's a more sensitive area. The fact of the matter is that we are all facing situations that require us to be strong and courageous, and we often need reminded that we can be strong and courageous BECAUSE the Lord our God is with us wherever we go!Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-58419618667827190082017-06-05T17:47:00.001-04:002017-06-05T17:51:39.042-04:00Wonder Woman, or Wonder Blunder?By Cassie Glubzinski<br />
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For those who have met me you know I'm an Army wife. My husband is active duty. We have been married for six and a half years, we have two beautiful daughters, and we have survived two deployments and countless trainings that have taken him far from his girls.</div>
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Just after he left on his most recent deployment a dear friend of mine gave me an odd gift. She said that her favorite phrase to tell wives who were left at home was to 'strap on your big girl panties and get things done'. </div>
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Well, okay then.</div>
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I look in the bag and there is a single pair of Wonder Woman panties.</div>
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I kid you not.</div>
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She told me that she had been saying this same phrase to countless other wives, before realizing that she never had really ensured that the women actually owned a pair of big girl panties.</div>
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I questioned whether or not having panties with the emblem of a Justice League member counted as being 'big girl', but who was I to judge a gift? I love gifts! I love giving gifts and receiving them. And this gal knew me well, because I am an EPIC Wonder Woman fan.</div>
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So... she gives me my very own pair of big girl panties, and they work. Seriously. Every time I wear them I feel as if I can take on the world and win. And goodness I needed it through that deployment! The only person who was as excited about this gift as me was my oldest daughter, Gemma. She loves superheroes, and she knows I adore Wonder Woman.</div>
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A couple of months ago I took Gemma into Walter-Reed for an eye doctor appointment. The place was buzzing with activity as she was sat next to me in the hall waiting. Folks were all running around heading to appointments of their own. The largest group to walk by was seven soldiers talking together, all young like they were fresh out of high school. They smiled at Gemma and told her good morning. Rather than responding with a smile and saying "Good Morning" like her mother taught her, (why would my toddler want to do that?) she looked at them, then calmly turned to me to ask, "Mommy, did you wear your Wonder Woman panties today?"</div>
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Yeah. That happened.</div>
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Sitting there watching as this group of some of America's finest young men faltered a step (a couple snickered, a few gasped and had jaws dropped, and one even quirked a brow daring me to answer), I was torn between running away and hiding or laughing hysterically. It was equally funny and mortifying at the same time. I giggled a bit and told her that we don't ask those kind of questions when we aren't at home. That seemed to satisfy her, and the men went on their way. But the crazy part was that I was actually wearing them that day.</div>
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And somehow Gemma knew. </div>
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When I told my husband about the incident later (he chose to laugh, though not hysterically) he said even he knew I was wearing them, even though he hadn't seen me dress that morning. </div>
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"How is that even possible? Do you have x-ray vision like Superman?" I had asked him jokingly.</div>
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"No, I don't," he told me seriously. "You carry yourself differently when you wear them. Like you are more confident and sure of yourself. And I honestly have no idea why. But it doesn't surprise me that Gemma noticed. She notices everything."</div>
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What?! I didn't really know how to respond to that. As I sat there digesting that bit of information I found myself pondering the fact that it shouldn't take an article of clothing to give me confidence or to make me feel better about myself. I am the same woman when I wear Wonder Woman apparel as I am when I wear Fruit of the Loom. Nothing should affect that, and nothing should taint it.</div>
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I am a wife and a mother who has always loved Wonder Woman. But first and foremost I am woman of God. That and that alone is more than enough to give me confidence, to give me gumption. Wonder Woman is pretty amazing, and her apparel lines are fun and a quick fix to a slump, but at the end of the day nothing comes close to the kind of surety our God gives.</div>
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Paul's words ring out loudly with these thoughts:</div>
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"You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the Living God, not on tablets of stone but on the tablets of human hearts. Such confidence we have through Christ before God. Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God." [2 Corinthians 3:3-5]</div>
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I had confidence wearing 'big girl panties', until my four year old opened her mouth and I found myself being stared down by seven men in uniform. Worldly confidence fades in times of trouble. Godly confidence, the kind that comes from knowing we are His and He is for us, never even wavers.</div>
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Wonder Woman has nothing on that.</div>
Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-16097658519067933862017-05-31T15:44:00.002-04:002017-05-31T15:46:05.861-04:00Hide and Seek? No, it's Seek and FindBy Cassie Glubzinski<br />
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My daughters are a riot.<br />
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Truly.<br />
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My Gemma just turned five, and little Evolet copies her every move (Ev is 2 and a half). The other morning my girls were playing, and I heard Gemma say to Evolet, "Let's play hide and seek. You go hide, and I'll count to ten and then come find you."<br />
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Excited about the prospect of playing a 'big girl game' little Evolet scurried off while Gemma stood in the corner of the room and slowly counted to ten. I smiled as I saw my youngest wedge herself beneath our Little Tikes trampoline, and I even giggled a bit upon seeing her stuffed snuggle puppy securely stashed at her side. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, as if she were trying with all her might to become invisible.<br />
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Gemma finished counting and declared, "Ready or not here I come!" At which time Evolet announced, "Here I am, Gemma! Come find me! I'm right here!"<br />
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I don't think she quite understands the concept of 'Hide and Seek' just yet.<br />
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As I sat watching Gemma sweetly explain to Evolet how to play the game quietly, I was struck by a thought: This is exactly what our Lord does. He doesn't play 'Hide and Seek'. With Him, we Seek and Find, because He makes Himself known to us.<br />
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Jeremiah 29:11-13 reads, "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. <i>You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.</i>'" [emphasis mine]<br />
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What a beautiful thought. As I sat there watching my girls all I could think of was surrendering with righteous abandonment, that I might be able to seek Him <i>with my whole heart</i>. It almost seems daunting at first, doesn't it? But really take a moment to reflect on this idea of seeking with your whole heart...<br />
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As I pondered it more and more I felt lighter, freer, and downright giddy with relief. I don't ever have to feel as if I have wasted a day, an opportunity, or even a moment (How often has that happened?). When we seek God fully He doesn't allow anything to be wasted. Seeking Him with my whole heart, with righteous abandonment, frees me to more naturally follow Christ. Because suddenly nothing else matters but Him, and everything else becomes an act of worship to a holy and awesome God.<br />
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So today, I implore you to take a few moments to pray. To seek and find God. He doesn't hide. He shouts loudly to us! He calls us to Himself, and when we seek Him fully we are finally free!Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-45376450371123269812017-03-12T22:16:00.003-04:002017-03-12T22:16:16.105-04:00Hope When It HurtsBy Rian Ryan<div>
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I am a worrier. An
anxious person. I feel ALL THE FEELINGS deeply and outwardly, barely containing
them. Since having kids my tears can
come at the drop of a hat. I probably
need a pill (seriously). At times, I
wonder why I’m on edge and snapping at my family for no apparent reason. But then I look inside and see some deep (or
maybe not so deep) distress that is eating away at me, exposing my raw nerves. There are so many things in this world that
can do us in. So much heartache around
us that we can easily be overcome. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Lately I have felt a deep sadness in my very core at times. I feel as though so much is crumbling around
me. I can’t take in anymore hurt,
despair, loss, anger, fear, or hatred.
Because when I do, when I let my brain process ANY of it, I’m weeping
again. That familiar, stifling disquiet
starts in my chest and threatens to consume me.
But I still have to make dinner. I
still have to read to and play with my kids.
And I still have to fold laundry…or at least put all the clean stuff in
one basket. And some days I even have to
shower. Crying in the fetal position
doesn’t facilitate these activities. So,
I put up a tiny bit of a wall. Enough to
get through the moment and move on with my life. Enough to read a gut-wrenching headline and
not start hyperventilating. And when the
tears come anyway I try to keep them brief so I can wipe them away to see where
the next brick needs to go. And it’s
protective and that feels better. Until
it doesn’t.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Building up walls comes with a price. You see, my walls don’t discriminate. They are equal opportunity barriers to
sharing my heart, whether with a stranger’s heartache, or the attempts of my
husband to reach me. In my place of
worry, the place where I shield myself, I’m missing out. I’m missing out on the love and hope God
wants to show me. I let my fear harden
me when I slap mortar on another brick.
And it makes me closed to the good things that can come from the God who
loves me, loves this broken world.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t want to miss the goodness of things that bring us
hope (with a little “h”). Instead of
carrying the hardness into everything, I can let goodness soften me. I can choose to get lost in the laughter of
my kids instead of keeping that edge, that wall, in front of me. I can choose
to marvel in my three kids wanting to have a family snuggle on the couch that
miraculously still holds us all. (By the way, a family snuggle in my house
looks a lot like a wrestling match with feet kicking someone’s face and at
least one person falling off the couch.) I can choose to let joy and hope fill
me in those moments, leaving my worry behind, at least for a time. I can remember the despair of this world is
not mine to shoulder. I may feel things
deeply and that’s ok – God himself gave me my emotions. But I can’t let the circumstances of the
world or my emotional response to them rule me.
I need to let Hope (with a big “H”) reign in my heart. A Hope that comes from the God who formed
every person and every piece of space dust in this universe. The God who has given himself for you and
me. The God who laid down his life for
us. And for this hurting world and
everyone in it. And oh yeah, he ALREADY
WON. Love HAS WON. Like, it’s done! All the anguish in this world, every horror,
has been paid for and cannot compare to the glory to come. And when I think of that Hope, the tears come
again. But I don’t put up another piece
of wall against these tears. Instead I
let them wash some of that wall away. As
it turns out, I’m a lousy mason in comparison to God’s goodness.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Recently on WGTS, Jerry Woods shared something one of his
Facebook friends told him. I was driving
so I tried not to cry too much in response - just a few tears escaped my lower
lids. He said, “The older we get, the
more Heaven looks like home, not Earth.”
Amen and AMEN. YES! That’s the Hope. This place IS broken, and I long for a place
where my heart is not anxious. A place
where peace reigns. But for now, I’m
here. And if I open my eyes to the hope
God has put around me, I see it’s not all dark.
I realize I hurt with this world because I love it, and I love God’s
children. And God has given us so many
good things in the midst of all the yucky stuff. Are we looking around with expectation and
hope? Are we seeing the wonder in the
mundane? Recently I was folding laundry
(applause are welcome) and grabbed my seven-year-old’s shirt. And it was huge. Like, how did my baby become large enough to
fit in this shirt? And I felt the
blessing of being his mom weigh heavy on my heart. And, you guessed it, the tears flowed (as
they are now…Lord, help me!). What had I
done to deserve this gift? Nothing. And this giant green polo shirt filled my
heart with hope in a way I’m still struggling to express. Maybe it’s the hope of a better future? Maybe it’s just the hope that comes with
watching a child grow up. I don’t know. But it was a beautiful thing. And I let it
wash over me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
My husband knows me.
He knows my struggles. He knows
despite my belief in what Jesus says in Matthew 6:25-34 (look it up, it’s good
stuff) I am still anxious. I still feel
ALL THE FEELINGS that come with the weight of sin in this world. So, when I verbally spewed my worries at him
as we were about to put dinner on the table last month, he wrapped me up in his
arms. I often choose to surround myself
with my sad little wall in these moments because, if I’m just being honest, it
feels safe to stay inside there and reject comfort, stewing in my mess. But this time, I just let go. I felt my worry dissolve and I was melting
into his embrace and I felt at peace.
And that wonderful man started singing to me. Now, he doesn’t have a crooner’s voice…he’ll
admit it. But his rendition of Bob
Marley’s “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright” was a salve to my weary soul. And I even laughed a little. And it gave me the Hope I needed to carry on
in that moment. If I’d kept up that wall
I would have missed that moment of God’s Hope for me. I think my wall-building-and-destroying
battle will go on. But I’m hoping to
follow the example of my five-year-old and spend more time on the demolition
side, embracing the goodness and Hope around me.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-7796687482536885552017-02-26T17:26:00.001-05:002017-03-12T22:09:43.590-04:00March MNO and Play Date Information!<div style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: wf_segoe-ui_normal, "Segoe UI", "Segoe WP", Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">
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**UPDATED**<br />
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February has been quite the warm month, eh? I have no idea what March holds weather-wise, but MOPS will be bringing some fun activities~<br />
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**Update** March is crazy and snow is coming...new date for the MNO below!<br />
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Mom's Night Out - Game Night and Mom Clothes Swap!</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: wf_segoe-ui_normal, "Segoe UI", "Segoe WP", Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">
Monday, <b><i>March 20th</i></b>, 7:30 PM</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: wf_segoe-ui_normal, "Segoe UI", "Segoe WP", Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">
Join us in the sanctuary of the old building at DBC for a fun game night! Bring a favorite game to play AND bring some clothes that you no longer wear and would like to swap. It will run the same as the totswap (you bring 4 items, you take 4 items, assuming sizing availability, obviously). Please bring nice (not stained, torn, etc) clothes that another mom would like to wear. Light refreshments, drinks will be served :)</div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: , "segoe ui" , "segoe wp" , "tahoma" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Playdate - St. Patrick's Day Green and Growing Scavenger Hunt</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: , "segoe ui" , "segoe wp" , "tahoma" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Friday, March 17th, 10 AM</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: , "segoe ui" , "segoe wp" , "tahoma" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Brookside Gardens - </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "usual" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.4px;">1800 Glenallan Avenue, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "usual" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.4px;">Wheaton, MD 20902</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: , "segoe ui" , "segoe wp" , "tahoma" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">$7 per child. You MUST register early...for more info and to register, go through this link:</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: wf_segoe-ui_normal, "Segoe UI", "Segoe WP", Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;" />
<a href="http://www.montgomeryparks.org/events/st-patricks-day-green-and-growing-scavenger-hunt/" style="background-color: white; font-family: wf_segoe-ui_normal, "Segoe UI", "Segoe WP", Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;" target="_blank">http://www.montgomeryparks.org/events/st-patricks-day-green-and-growing-scavenger-hunt/</a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hope to see you at our events!</span><br />
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Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025602656899394233.post-39466286503080320512017-01-26T10:41:00.002-05:002017-01-26T10:41:22.568-05:00February Mom's Night Out and Play Date Details!Reminders: The January Mom's Night Out is tonight, January 26th, and the Play Date is January 30th at the Germantown Soccerplex...<br />
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February is coming fast, so put these dates on your calendars!<br />
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<b>Play Date: February 14th - Valentine's Day Free Play and Crafts!</b><br />
<b>10:30-12:30</b><br />
<b>DBC</b><br />
Nicole Yeh is heading up this month's events and has booked the DBC auditorium for us! She has planned Valentine's Day crafts for us and there will be plenty of space for our kiddos to run around and burn off some energy. YAY! You can even bring some ride-on toys if you like. My kids always enjoy these play dates - room to run and be crazy! Feel free to bring your own lunch and picnic on the floor :)<br />
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<b>Mom's Night Out: February 26th - Oscar Party!</b><br />
<b>8:00 PM<br />Nicole Yeh's House</b><br />
Enjoy a night hanging out with the ladies, snacking, watching the Oscars, and a a playing game for guessing the winner of each category - whoever gets the most right will get a prize! This will be a fun, relaxing evening. I thought about glamming it up by wearing my wedding dress, but since it doesn't fit anymore that wouldn't be very fun for any of us to see ;) Feel free to wear sweat pants. Or your pajamas. Seriously, this is super low-key!<br />
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We look forward to seeing you at our February events!Derwood Momshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02936345645780257969noreply@blogger.com0