Fighting fair

On Friday, I ended up watching an Extreme Home Makeover episode.  I don't normally watch this show and have seen less than 20 episodes, so I thought the subject of this episode was somewhat ironic.  The man they built the house for was a Marine vet who lost his leg in Iraq and then his wife asked for a divorce a year to the day he lost his leg and he was left to raise his four kids on his own.  Talk about giving me a little perspective!  If I hadn't already written the blog post about the blessings of my sprained foot, I would have definitely been writing it after watching that episode.  This man was walking on a prosthetic limb 27 days after losing his leg.  He was visiting newly admitted soldiers in the hospital before he was even out of treatment himself.

Life gives us circumstances.  If you look at circumstances by themselves they are benign.  Detectives casually discuss case records.  We read newspaper obituaries of strangers as passing news.  Someone we don't know gets into an accident, gets divorced, or has to claim bankruptcy.  These things don't affect us at all or much.  But if you know the person affected, it changes everything.  The circumstance is benign, but the emotional effect is not.  That is why you can have one person face a tragedy like losing a limb in war by helping other soldiers to cope and another who will fall into depression and commit suicide.

I think this may answer the question, "Why do bad things happen to good people?".  Because the circumstance or "bad thing" is benign.  So God doesn't have to always prevent the "bad thing", we just have to let Him be our joy and strength through it.  It is what we do with the circumstance that defines who we are and what we believe.  I have noticed when people use their circumstances and the lessons they've learned through those circumstances to benefit others, they are normally able to handle some pretty horrific circumstances.  While, there are times when the slightest of life's woes can throw another person's life completely off course.  When we love others, even when it is hard, it brings joy to God. In Nehemiah, it says, "The joy of the Lord is your strength." Feeling joy in life brings joy to God.  We bring joy to God by loving others even when it is hard, not taking an apparently easier but less moral path, letting go of selfishness and pride to realize that you are never truly alone in your circumstance - that there is always someone else that is dealing with the same struggle, if not in your immediate circle, somewhere in the world, or even your state or your county or your neighborhood. Helping when its necessary, even when it is an inconvenience These things give God joy and that is where we find our strength.

Sometimes I handle the most difficult circumstances in my life better than the daily nuisances.  I think it is because nuisances don't make me dig in deep, to remember what I know and believe about God, to trust him because there is nothing else to do.  I can have a pity party pretty easy over house repairs, but when tragedy really strikes, if I can't find a way to remember that God is sovereign in it, it could mean big trouble for me.  But when I let the little nuisances separate me from God by my own discontentment or self-preservation, it becomes harder to remember what I know and believe when it is necessary.  It would be easier to trust and believe all the time and in the first place.

It reminds me of when I first married Josh.  I had a slight (okay, maybe a little bigger than slight) temper.  I grew up in a family where you yelled and banged first and asked questions later and I definitely was bringing that history into my marital relationship.  But, Josh was not raised in a yelling home, so he didn't know his role.  So this is how our arguments would go:

I would get offended or hurt.  I would fume and huff and expect Josh to come and know just what was wrong and the right thing to say to make it better.  He wouldn't.  I would get more mad.  I would go clean or do some other task.  I would get louder and more obnoxious in my effort to show him I was upset.  He would come over and say the really infuriating question, "Is something wrong?" or he would do something that I could pounce on to let the floodgates of my fury open, like sit on the couch and turn on the t.v..  Then the real yelling and banging would start.  Josh would stare at me quietly.  I would get more mad.  I would yell and bang more.  He would stay quiet.  I would get more obnoxious.  He would reach his breaking point and start to yell back.  I would spew out all of these hateful things that I didn't really mean.  He would say he was a jerk and that he didn't know how not to be.  I would start to feel bad for berating him and being so obnoxious (sometimes after I or he had stormed out of the room).  I would apologize and tell him the real reason that I was so mad and how I really felt.  He would tell me what he was really thinking and feeling and then we'd both feel sorry that it had gotten so ugly and wished we could take it all back. 

After a few years of this, we realized that the only way to prevent this from happening was for us to tell each other what was wrong immediately and the other person to be willing to listen and to understand that it bothered the other, even if they didn't understand why, and try to come to a compromise to change it.  Sounds simple, right?  I think thousands of marriages could be saved if this simple solution was put into practice.  So, instead of letting little things add up and get to me now, I just go right to Josh and say something like, "I am upset about this.  It may be unreasonable of me or unfair.  If it is you need to explain to me why and work with me on it, so I am not upset anymore."  Instead of flying off the handle and losing it first and then having to come back and clean up the mess, I can just deal with the root of the issue originally and then it doesn't create such havoc.

The same should go with me and God.  As soon as things start to bother me or hurt me, I should go right to God and say the same thing, "I don't understand this and it is making me sad, angry, frustrated, etc. and I need you to help me out with this, so that I am not upset anymore by it and can move on."  But, sadly, I don't do that enough.  I look to others to solve my problems. Or I try to be tough and work through it alone, part of me a little miffed at God that he isn't doing more to take care of the problem(s).   Or, worse yet, I lash out saying hurtful things about or to others or I downplay or question God's love and will in my life.  It would be much easier to just go to God originally.

 But sometimes he's easier to avoid than the man sitting on my couch turning on the television....

Josh has arrived!

Josh arrived safely at his hotel in Guatemala City at around 1 a.m. our time.  He sent me a quick email to let me know that he was there, but I had decided to finally give up on waiting for him to notify me that he'd arrived at 12:45 and went to bed.

But this morning at around 7:30, I heard the computer "ringing" and hobbled as quickly as my hurt foot would allow me to over to get the call.  It was so nice to not just talk to Josh but to see his face and know that he was there in his hotel room, safe and sound.  He even showed us what his room looked like.  The kids had just gotten up about 10 minutes before, so I think it was really good for them to start out their day seeing their daddy, too.  I know Josh is missing us, so I am sure it helped him to see the kids being like they always are.

Elias kept showing Josh his toys and saying, "Dad, do you remember this?".  I am not sure if he thought Josh may have actually forgot about his toys or if he was just amazed that his dad could actually see him and respond to what he was seeing so far away.  Bella, on the other hand, kept saying, "Now can you get my milk, Mommy?".  Clearly, daddy hasn't been gone long enough to take priority over her morning cup of chocolate milk, but few things do.  I am sure if we would have hung up with him and she'd gotten her milk before she'd really had a chance to talk to him, she would have been upset after she had finished her milk that she couldn't talk to him then.

Yesterday was a pretty long day.  The kids were not crazy about being home all day and they didn't like that I couldn't be up and active.  I have to admit that even I was getting a little stir crazy by the end of it and I felt exhausted from waking up early and telling the kids to stop fighting about a bizillion times.  Plus, getting around on a foot that is injured is exhausting in itself! BUT, it was made MUCH shorter than it would have been by some visits from our friends.  I am very blessed to have an awesome group of friends who really take care of me and look out for me.  I have been kept well-fed and we all have enjoyed the companionship.

We went to church today, thanks to Cassi, my chauffeur for the morning. I couldn't help but smile and be happy thinking of Josh sitting in a church service listening to worship songs being sung in Spanish, absorbing the culture around him. And remembering what it was like to feel little hands holding mine and joyful people kissing my cheeks in a similar service last year.  I know that these may be some difficult days for him, but they will only make him an even better man - which is pretty hard to imagine, because he's a wonderful man already.  

The blessing of a sprained ankle

Josh is leaving for Guatemala.  In a few short hours, he will be boarding a plane that will take him to meet the rest of his team in Miami and then they will all leave the country together.  I am excited for him and know that the week will seem long, but it is only one short week.  I am so glad that I was able to go to Peru just one year ago, because the thoughts and feelings about my trip - before, during, and after - are still somewhat fresh to me, so I am able to share in his experience more fully than if I would have never went.

Whenever one of us flies anywhere, I get really nervous.  I always wonder if the plane one of us is taking will be "the one".  Every time I talk about my anxiety over flying, Josh always reminds me that plane crashes are rare, but I always think that no matter how rare they are, someone eventually gets on "the one" that is going down.

But the other night, as I was doing a menial task at home, I feel down my porch steps and earned myself a midnight trip to the ER.  I thought I broke my foot, but it is just a bad sprain.  But the pain was shocking, worse than any other injury I can remember.  The sick feeling as I sat on the ground waiting for Josh to come get me, knowing that I couldn't walk and not knowing how long it would be until I could was something I will not soon forget.  Then regret for going outside at midnight to bring in my kids' inflatable pools, instead of just waiting until the morning, added to my pain and the tears began to flow.  As I sat on the couch in pain that brought shivers to my body, I began to think, "How am I going to make it through this week?  God why did this have to happen now?  Don't you know that this is the worst time for this to happen?  How am I going to take care of the kids when I can't even stand up?"  And then the tears really began to flow.  But then, suddenly, I began to chuckle.  I think Josh thought I had lost it.  But the absurdity of it all hit me.  The absolute uncontrollability of life (I know that uncontrollability is not technically a word, but I think it should be.  If someone can make phat a word, which has a lot less sensibility and usefulness, than I can make up a word as needed also.)

But yesterday, as I sat and sat and...well...sat, I began to think about how this sprained foot wasn't that bad.  First of all, obviously, it was just my foot and it was just a sprain.  It will take me just a couple weeks at the very most to be fully recovered.  Secondly, it happened while Josh was still home.  So, not only was he here to help me the first day, but to give me emotional support when I did it, which is one of the things he does best.  Third, it forced me to accept help from my great friend, Jenny, and others who will probably help me through the week.  It not only reminded me that I have a great community of friends, but that I need to accept help as willingly as give it. It also made me realize how much I wait on my kids and do things for them that they really could, and possibly should, do on their own.  (As an addendum to my second & third point, I am also glad Josh was home the first day and could help me get in and out of the shower when my foot was the worst.  I love my friends, but there is some help that would be a little more difficult to give and accept!) Fourth, I tend to have a superwoman mentality and want to do everything not just "good enough", but with the utmost precision and excellency.  As I looked around my house yesterday, I realized that there wasn't much I could do about anything - the clutter, the errands, and my other "to do's" - and, surprise surprise, the world didn't implode or fall off its axis!  Fifth, and most importantly, I was reminded that someone doesn't have to board a plane to be in harm's way.  Danger can be right on your doorstep (pun intended).  So, I am no longer scared for Josh to fly.  Don't get me wrong, I will still be waiting to hear from him and thank the Lord when he has safely arrived, but it is different than the usual fear.

I hope to give you updates of his trip, as he sends them.  I am also going to try to enter the world of video calling through Skype - thanks to the handy-dandy webcam we picked up last night. It would be awesome to be able to see and talk to Josh while he is gone.  When I went to Peru, I was only able to chat on-line for just a few minutes each night with Josh and, since Elias and Bella could barely read, chatting with them was out of the question!*

Pray for Josh as he is away and for safe, uneventful travel.  He already had the chaos of a delayed flight that would have caused him to miss his connection before he even left the house.  Luckily, after a nail-biting hour of phone calls with the airlines, he is booked on another flight that will get him to Miami only 10 minutes later than his original flight.

As a side note, I think one use of crutches (or crunches, as Bella calls them) is to take a hurt person's focus off the pain of their hurt limb by allowing them to focus on the pain in their armpits!  Last night, I was hobbling around without the crutches, trying to put Josh's mind at ease that he didn't have to worry about me while he was away...and saving wear and tear on my armpits.  But instead of Josh complimenting on my fortitude, he frustratingly told me that my ankle would never heal or that I was going to hurt myself worse - so I had to resort to only hobbling when he wasn't looking.  But I love my husband and really don't want to prolong this injury (especially since it is my right foot and I can't drive until it heals), I will try to be good while he is away.  I will just have to remind myself of all the muscles I am building in my upper body!

*Elizabeth, you better look out when you return home. You just may get a call and have to look straight into my beautiful face while we talk. - If I can figure out how to add you!

Lessons in Home Repairs - Part 2

I am done learning my spiritual lesson through home repairs now.  God could make the lesson stop any time now and it would be fine with me.

It is our fault, though.  In the three years we have lived here, we have been thinking, "Yeah, we should probably get that fixed sometime soon." way too many times and it is catching up with us.

We are fairly responsible, reasonable people who try really hard to take care of what we have, but busyness and budget often keep us from fixing things until they become a problem.  How do people who don't care about their houses or don't have any extra money to spare have them still standing?

In the midst of all this, I keep trying to remind myself of how blessed I am to have a home and adequate finances to fix things when they are broken and that our family is safe and healthy and happy.  It is coming up on a year since I went to Peru and I think of Gabriel and his young mother.

The wall beside the bed that she, her husband, and Gabriel share was made of plastic just a few short months before we visited her.  Even though her husband worked as a day laborer at the market 7 days a week, they did not have the money to build a permanent wall.  Many of the houses we saw there were built as the people had money, so it was not uncommon to see houses that had one or two rooms or walls that were made of plastic.

Luckily, since Gabriel was in the Child Survival program, the church was able to help this family build an actual wall made of wood.  This house was still a little chilly, since there was a constant breeze from the Pacific Ocean hitting it, but it was still better than several of the neighboring houses that still had plastic and tarps composing one or more walls or parts of their roof.  The mother was thankful that Gabriel had not been as sick during their winter season as he had been before.

I try to keep it in perspective.  I really do.  I don't want to have seeds of discontent sown in my heart over a few problems with our house that will (hopefully) be remedied in a few short weeks.  Can you pray for me?

IMBAS - How do you combat it?

Elias has been getting bored with being home so much the last two weeks and has been getting a bit grumpy.  I have been letting him watch more television because he has been complaining about being bored.  I realized a few days ago that he was turning on the television at every opportunity and it was only making him more grumpy.  He has just not been wanting to do anything.

Yesterday, he bulked at the thought of reading books and even at getting in the sprinkler with his sister!  I had to threaten him to get in the sprinkler.  I told him that if he didn't go out and get in the sprinkler, he had to go clean his room.  He grudgingly got his swimsuit on and went out and stood under the spray like a person who was subjecting himself to torture.  But soon, he started letting himself enjoy it just a little and soon he was having fun, running and laughing like the boy I know and love.  And he was pleasant the rest of the day.

This morning, I was feeling guilty over not planning more outings or activities for the kids. Until last week, our summer has been a whirl of activity.  But the last two have been fairly slow in comparison to not only our summer days, but our life in general.  Though Josh and I have had a lot going on with house repairs and such, the kids have not had a lot on their social calendars.

I have made them turn off the television the last two days, but didn't have other specific activities planned - or I was told the activities I suggested were "lame".  While I took a shower this morning, I determined that I would take them out somewhere, even if it was just to get ice cream at McDonald's and play at the play place (since it is WAY TOO HOT to play at the park).  But when I got out of the shower, the kids were in their own little world of play.  They had the Legos out (which they hardly ever get out) and they were playing some type of make believe game.

They have been enjoying themselves all day and I haven't given them any activities to do. I think maybe they just need time to get creative.  When the television is one click away or the next activity is on the horizon all the time, they aren't as forced to "think outside the box".

I feel frustrated that Elias is already getting into the "I'm bored" angst syndrome (IMBAS for short - I just coined that.  It is awesome, I know. Don't be envious) and that he rubs off on Isabella who doesn't really feel the same but becomes a sympathizer pretty easily. (Not to be confused with the other Imbas that I just googled, just to be sure I wouldn't be sued for stealing someone else's acronym).

But I know I need to just take each day at a time and realize that my kids have to figure out things on their own sometimes, and they'll have to do so more and more the older they get.

It is hard being a parent!

Lessons in Home Repairs

We discovered an underlying leak in our foundation.  We didn't find it until mold, smaller than my hand print, appeared on the outside of our drywall.  After finding the leak, we discovered that the source of the leak wasn't the minor hole between the two corner blocks initially, but the fact that our gutters above the wall had become bent and clogged over the last couple years and were not working properly, which caused the water to find its home in the corner of our basement.

After having the problem assessed by a home inspector, we know that we will be able to fix it with a little work and money.  We have to cut the drywall and carpet away from the corner of the room, let it dry up and then seal minute crack from the inside and out that the water had been trickling through.  BUT, most importantly, we have to fix the gutters.  The thought of messing up the room by cutting the wall and carpet is so disheartening, because it will get messier and uglier before it gets better and we have to be responsible to make sure everything gets back in order after the leak is fixed. 

I was reading my Bible and praying this morning and thinking about some issues I have been dealing with for a while and this situation popped into my mind.  It has definitely been a source of frustration and I have prayed about it for that reason.  But the reason it popped into my mind this morning was for a completely different reason.

I saw parallels to my life in the situation.  Lately, I have seen a lot of things trickling into my life that I don't like.  I have been trying to "stop the leak" by trying to control the behavior.  All along I have known that there are underlying problems I need to address and that there is time and work that I need to do to make that happen.  But it is just so much easier to coat the top of the issue and not have to "tear out the wall" and expose all of it to make the proper repairs - especially since I have taken so much to make everything look so good on the outside.  I know that it must be done, but, most importantly, I have to deal with what is pouring into my life first.

If the stuff that I am allowing to pour into my life is not beneficial, then it won't matter how many times I try to stop up the leaks.  They will always return.  I used to take time to memorize scripture and I haven't really been doing that lately.  Honestly, I don't even read my Bible half as much as I used to.  Recently, I have been reading it more - not because it is the "right behavior" I am supposed to have, but simply because I am at the end of myself and realize that I have just been going about things all wrong for a while now.  I am reading it now because I know I need it, as the psalm and worship chorus says, "As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longs after you, oh, God." I am glad that my desire to read and memorize scripture is increasing as I discover my need for it again.  Sometimes I forget that I still need the Bible and God to help me to be a Christian.  I feel like I should have figured it all out enough by now.

But just as my house needs constant maintenance and repair, my Spiritual house needs the same constant attention.  If I ignore it, problems can be masked or ignored for a while, but they will soon surface.  The longer they are left go, the harder repairing them can be.

Keepsake memories

Last night I went to a women's event at my church.  They had a "get to know you" game, where a ball was thrown and you had to answer the question that was directly in front of you.  So before the ball made it to me, I began thinking of what answers I would give to the questions others were responding to, so that I would be prepared when it came to me.  One of the questions was, "What is something you have had for a long time that you probably should throw away or get rid of?"

I didn't get this question, but it brought to mind a little trunk I have in my basement.  Wherever I have moved, it has moved with me, though I barely ever open it.  And, if I do, it takes me 20 minutes to figure out how to get everything back into it to fit!  But in this trunk, I have the most prized possessions of my childhood.  I don't like clutter and I am not very sentimental about possessions, but this box holds the handful of things that held the most memory from growing up.

One item in this box is a baby doll.  A small plastic baby with a blond pixie haircut, a lacy dress with pink ribbon trim, and eyes that open and shut.  This baby doll looks like it needs to bypass goodwill and go to the landfill, but it is one of my most treasured toys.

I was the youngest child in my family and I came along 6 years after my parents thought they were done having kids.  My sisters were past the doll phase by the time I got old enough for them.  My dad always wanted boys, so he tended to want buy us trucks, trains, BB guns, and the like.  On top of this, we didn't have a lot of money, so toys only came at Christmas and never were name brand.

I remember one year I asked for a Cabbage Patch doll and my parents got me a creature that looked like a mutant baby of a Cabbage Patch and an albino Monchhichi.  My friends didn't know what to do with it.  It had clothes like a baby, but the face of a monkey with white yarn hair.  Needless to say, this did not make it into my keepsake chest!

But one year, I asked for a doll I had seen on T.V. that actually peed in potty.  On Christmas morning, wonder of all wonders, I opened the wrapping and saw the doll I had asked for looking up at me.

I played for days or even weeks with her, happily feeding her water with her bottle while she laid down and then sitting her up and - voila - gravity would take it's course and the water would come out through the hole between her legs.

Then one day I got curious.  I am not sure why, but I wanted to know how the water got to point A to point B.  So I got a big safety pin and I sneaked into my parents bedroom.  I laid the baby down, gave her water and then began sticking the pin in the baby's belly.  The water didn't come out at first, so I kept sticking more holes, trying to figure out exactly where this water was located in her stomach.  So I gave her a little more water.  All of a sudden, she looked like a yard sprinkler for a second - and then it was over.  I sat her up, the rest of the water trickled out the bottom, while a little more escaped the tiny punctures in her tummy, getting the beautiful lacy dress wet in the process.

I then realized that I had ruined my doll that I had wanted so badly in less than 5 minutes.  I was heartbroken.  But couldn't tell anyone because my parents had finally bought me the toy I had really, really wanted and I had messed it up.

As I was thinking of this doll last night, I recall Elias and Bella doing similar things with toys that they received.  Things they wanted so badly and they either broke them by being too careless or because they were simply curious or didn't realize the consequence of what they were doing.  I have been so frustrated with them.  I have said things I heard my parents say to me like, "I don't know why you can't take care of the things you get.", "You should appreciate the things you have. There are a lot of kids around the world who would love to have it.", etc.  Or I will want to get them the cheap knock-off version of a toy, instead of the name brand one that they've asked for, because I know they won't take care of it or that the name brand isn't worth the money.

But reliving that experience in my head has given me a new found grace and appreciation for my little critters and the toys they want and the toys they've broken or lost or otherwise not taken care of the way I think they should. 

Even though this doll's dress is now yellowed and dry rotted and her stomach a fountain, she is still one of my most prized possessions.  So much so that I have moved her hundreds of miles and remember her with such vivid clarity.

I may just have to pull that box out and see what other memories are sparked!

Do you have a prized possession?  What is it and where do you keep it?

Watching Soccer

Josh began watching professional soccer matches on television when he started considering coaching Elias' soccer team last year.  He quickly became a bit addicted to it.  I never really understood why he got into it much, until I watched it myself. 

Yesterday, we watched the final game of the women's World Cup.  Can I just say, those women are some amazing athletes.  Everyone talks about how tough American football players are, but I don't think they have anything on soccer players (or more appropriately named- football players-as the rest of the world calls soccer).  I don't mean to make light of the physical exertion and mental effort it takes to play pigskin football and I certainly couldn't do it myself, but soccer is INTENSE.

Unlike football, where there is a lot of starting and stopping in the action to set and reset plays and time-outs, etc., these women ran up and down the field non-stop for 90 minutes.  When there is a penalty or the ball goes out, the play resumes immediately.  On top of this, they are throwing themselves at these flying balls, often with their heads, with only some shin guards as padding.  And, don't get me started with their feet.  Their feet sometimes look like those scenes in cartoons where the character is moving so fast, there feet are just a blur.  And the way they can contort their bodies to gain the right angle on the ball is a testament to just how physically fit and fine tuned their bodies are.

Then, when the game was tied one-to-one at the end, they didn't have just a couple minutes added to the clock or "the first goal wins".  They added another 30 minutes to the clock!  I couldn't imagine hearing that, after running non-stop for an hour and a half, I was going to have to do it all over again for at least another 30 minutes. I think anyone could squeeze out an extra few minutes of strength - adrenaline alone could carry you that far - but 30 minutes?  That takes some major endurance!

Another thing I appreciate about women's soccer in particular is that it showcases women's strength and intellect and natural beauty.  Their uniforms are comfortable and appropriate, but not to be ogled.  My niece is in the Junior Olympics for volleyball and their uniforms were very surprisingly formfitting and revealed a good bit of these very athletic girls' physiques.  But if you want to play the sport, you have to wear the uniform. I am glad that Women's soccer doesn't go that direction.  These women have something worth while for young girls to emulate, much more so than the over-indulged celebrity facades that are pushed at them by the media.

Lastly, there was a high level of sportsmanship shown.  There was very little "unsportman like" conduct.  They played the game and let their playing speak for itself.  I don't think you need to make the other team less to make your team more.

Even though the U.S. women ended up losing by a penalty kick shoot-out in the end, I am proud of how they played and they have made me a football fan, much to Josh's delight.
 

This is the Stuff that Drives me CRAZY!

It seems life is never dull in the Wilson home.  We have had a list of random things happen lately that makes me want me to get into bed with a book and act like it all doesn't matter.  There has not been anything catastrophic (Thank the Lord!), but just things that make us realize that life will never be boring and that we will always be balancing time and money and duty and relationship - for the rest of our lives.

In an effort not to complain or whine, I will avoid describing them in detail, but I feel like we are trying to prove Murphy's Law!

Sometimes I wish we never owned a house or cars because of all the aggravation and money and time upkeep takes, but I try to remember that I am very fortunate to have a home and transportation.

Yesterday, I went to church and heard a great sermon about how the stuff that escapes the filter from our brains to our mouth comes from the overflow of our heart.  Therefore, our hearts need to be filled with things that we don't mind coming out into the open.

When I came home, I realized that I had been locked out of my house.  As I looked into my back doors at the house that was in much need of attention before company arrived last night and my mind began ticking off all the things I had planned for the day, I think my filter must have sprung loose from my body. 

When I called Josh to politely inform him of my predicament, the neighbors must have wondered at my sanity.  In my own defense, this incident felt like the straw that broke the camel's back in a long list of things that has been happening, but still saying that I lost my temper is a bit of an understatement.  So as I drove to the mall - since I had 3 hours to kill and it was 9 thousand degrees outside - I started thinking about why this event caused such an eruption in my life.

Simply it came down to the fact that I had allowed myself to believe that if I wouldn't have been locked out, I would have been able to gain a greater level of control and that I didn't deserve all the daily junk that has been happening.  I want to have control and I just can't - which is the story of my life.  In fact, the older I get, the more variables of my life seem out of my control and it eats at me.

I couldn't sleep last night because we identified a significant problem with our house just before bed that is probably going to cost a lot of money and a lot more time and aggravation and all I could think was, "Not another thing!"  I just wanted to run out of my house and never return again.  So I eventually got up and read my Bible while the sun was rising (something I do not normally do) and I felt such peace and felt ready to tackle my day.

As I opened the door to go downstairs to assess the damages and work to be done, panic seized me again and I had that desire to just escape again.  Then I realized that this is the reason that I lose my temper and rant and rave when I am really upset.  It helps me to escape thinking about what I am going to do or need to do and lets me feel like I have control by listing all the ways it could have, should have, would have been different.

I made a decision two weeks ago to stop my daily use of Facebook and to concentrate more on God and my family. I feel like since then, everything else around me has been working double time to distract me.  I feel it is Spiritual warfare. It may be just random circumstance, but I definitely feel under attack, either way.

I have to admit, when I first heard Francesca Battistelli's song, "This is the Stuff", I didn't really like it and I thought it was a little trite or shallow, but I have definitely been identifying with it the last two weeks.  It doesn't have deep theology, but it really does speak some truth!

Readers, I ask that if you are praying people, please pray for my dear husband. He is a good, patient man and he has married an impatient, anxious woman.  And pray that our house does not continue to revolt against us!

Three Questions for Shaun Groves

In a recent blog post, Shaun Groves offered to answer three questions for any blogger who sent him an e-mail requesting he do so.  So I had a few questions and he was gracious enough to answer them for me. After I sent my three questions, I realized that I didn't ask anything directly related to his new CD.

I have mentioned that he is preparing to launch a new CD, Third World Symphony, in a previous post.  I have already listened to it all the way through and I am excited to get my copy of it.

If you'd like to listen to his new CD or buy a copy of your own, check out the links below:

The album player: http://soundcloud.com/shaungroves/sets/third-world-symphony

Where the album can be purchased: http://shaungroves.com/store/third-world-symphony/

So, without further ado, here are my questions and Shaun's or Mr. Groves' answers. (Are we on a first name basis now? Shaun seems too personal, but Mr. Groves sounds like he's my music teacher. Hmmm??)

1. Why did you choose to start blogging?

"I started blogging in 2005 when my record label wouldn't update the news section of my website. I was already on my site's message board for an hour every day so I saw blogging as the same thing but more focused. It was a way for me to connect with an audience, practice writing daily, and learn from commenters."

How did it evolve into you becoming the trip leader for the blogging trips for Compassion International?

"Back in 2007 the music industry was contracting rapidly. My record label had gone under the year before. Many friends were losing their record deals as well. When the music industry began to implode it wasn't just a problem for people who work in the music business, but also for those who depend on that business. Many thousands of children were sponsored at Compassion International through concerts. As concert attendance plummeted and the number of artists on the road dropped as well, I was thinking hard about how Compassion might be able to replace the sponsorships they would inevitably lose from this crash.

I suggested to a friend who works at Compassion that bloggers could be treated like artists. They could go on a trip, like artists do, see the ministry of Compassion for themselves and, if they believe in it, they could support it on their sites. Well, be careful about having ideas. Because they might become your new part time job. Lesson learned."

2. Who did you think your blogging audience originally would be? Was it who you expected?

"I thought my blog audience would be my message board participants. I knew them pretty well. Almost entirely women ranging from high schoolers to forty-somethings. And I was right. While some of those original message boarders left and haven't come back - some had their feelings hurt that I did away with the board - the thousands who've come along since then are cut from the same cloth. I'm not theological enough to attract many Christian men on-line. And I'm fine with that. Christian blogs mostly read by men bore me to tears. So impersonal. So much brain and not much heart. Sadly. So, yes, I'm proud to be a mom blogger - the best kind of blogger there is."

3. What do you think people's biggest misconception of the work that Compassion International does or that you do for them?

"I truly don't know. But that's never stopped me from an answering a question before so...  Maybe it's a financial misconception. People have implied that they think Compassion doesn't need their money - that Compassion is so big and so rich that it's doing just fine without you or me sponsoring a child. But the truth is that Compassion doesn't take government funds and relies almost entirely upon the generosity of individuals - sponsors like you and me. As a result Compassion is smaller than some of its well known peers.

And people have criticized me once or twice - anonymously, of course - for speaking and singing on Compassion's behalf. Their theory is that I'm a rich rock star getting even richer helping the poor. First of all, I'm not a rock star. I'm a soft rock star. And not much of a star at that. I certainly am rich though. Wealthier than most of the planet. As are those two critics, who also live here in America. Am I getting rich from helping the poor? I make about what a school teacher in my city makes - after cost of business like airfares and payroll. Rich is relative I suppose. I'm thankful for music, speaking and Compassion - because of these three I have more than I need and plenty to share."

This is the cover art for the CD. If you know me, you know that I am a little crazy about recycling and reducing waste in general, so the way they are producing the CD also is important.  In his own words, "We’re cutting cost and waste and petroleum and saving some trees all at the same time by going with a sleeve package made from recycled materials and fully recyclable itself."

Thank you Mr. Shaun Groves for being a Compassion advocate, a talented musician, and a kind and humble member of the blogosphere.  I appreciate three questions worth of your time (with 2 bonus questions cleverly hidden in between).