Surviving the Weekend

As I stated in my previous post, I attended the Mute Math concert in Atlanta Saturday night. It goes without saying that it was incredible, yet hot, sweaty, and squished. Some friends of mine had the right idea by snagging some seats up in the balcony. But not me. Oh no. I have to be all up in it.

I always leave concerts feeling a little sad. You listen to these people over and over again, and you feel as if you are making a connection with them through their music. And then you go see them live and you're just some nameless face in crowd. I always wish I could somehow hang out back stage, eat a bag of Doritos with them, and pick their brains. I felt the same way after I saw Aimee Mann, a songwriting hero of mine, play last September.

So, Friday night we had family in from out of town for Isabel's birthday party. Saturday was the big bash, where Cinderella herself was in attendance. Then Saturday night was the concert. Sunday we had church. And then Sunday evening, a friend's surprise birthday party at Dave & Buster's. I thought I could just take it easy, but then realized that the girls started gymnastics today. Needless to say, I am beat. As if taking care of three kids ages 4 and under wasn't enough!

If you don't believe me about Cinderella, here's photographic proof that she really does exist. She's slightly more exotic than I remember her looking, but still lovely. And unfortunately we couldn't get a close-up of her nose piercing. Hey, it is the new millennium, you know.

Isabel certainly has the "I couldn't care less look" down. She's hard to impress.

Reason #937 I Love MuteMath

That's right folks. This is MuteMath's brand new video for "Typical". Tomorrow night I will be seeing them live. They never disappoint. If you ever have the chance to see them live, do not, I repeat, DO NOT miss the opportunity.

I just read somewhere that they had to learn the entire song backwards to make this video. Pretty impressive if you ask me.

Oliver

Yesterday Oliver turned 3 months old. It snuck up on me so fast I hardly even realized it! The picture of him with his sisters is actually a little old. I thought I'd post a more recent one of him to give you guys that haven't seen him yet an idea of what he looks like. He couldn't look more like Ren if he tried.

Well Said

In the spirit of the waiting room, I thought I would link what my good friend and pastor, Tony McCollum, had to say about waiting. I could not have said it better.

Also on March 19th, 2003...

While I was having a baby at the hospital, we were sending troops to Iraq. Operation Iraqi Freedom started 4 years ago today. I can't believe we've been over there for that long.

Later that year, Hurricane Isabel hit North Carolina shores.

What does all this say about my daughter? I sure hope that her entire life is not marked with unnecessary wars and deadly hurricanes!

Isabel Mae

Today is March 19th. A very special day. Today is the day, 4 years ago, I became a mom for the first time and little Isabel Mae was born. I remember holding her and thinking that there was never a more beautiful, perfect little girl. I was smitten from the start. That time was so magical. I was blown away by how much I loved her, even though I barely knew her and she certainly hadn't done anything to earn my love. Other than the fact that she was my daughter. My first-born. I just wasn't prepared for the intensity of emotions I would have towards her. I also couldn't believe that the way I was feeling was just a fraction of how God felt, and still feels, towards me. This still boggles my mind to this day.

I cannot believe it has been 4 years. She was such a perfect baby and has turned into an even more incredible, smart, spunky little kid. She amazes me with how much and how quickly she learns every day. I am so happy that God decided to bless us with her. She makes me proud to be a mother.

Motherhood and marriage, while not always easy or smooth-sailing, are the two most rewarding roads I've ever traveled along. I am honored and humbled beyond words that God has given me both.

Happy Birthday, my big girl. I love you so much. May God bless you and keep you all the days of your life.

Worth a Thousand Words

All this talk of death and sacrifice has me sounding a bit Eeyore-ish. I thought I would instead post a ray of sunshine. This says it better than I ever could.

What Not to Wear

Could be my mantra these days. You know your fashion sense is not at its peak when you walk out of your bedroom, and your two year old exclaims, "Mommy, you're dressed!"

Does anyone watch that show on TLC? There's the British version and now the American version hosted by Stacey and Clinton. I do like the show (both versions), but I find I can't watch it too much. All those shows are the same for me. Trading Spaces, What Not To Wear, You're an Utter Loser With No Fashion Sense and We're Here to Deliver You!, etc., etc. I like the concept of these shows. I learn a few things. But then I find myself discontented with stuff around me that I otherwise wasn't discontented with before I watched it. It's sort of how I imagine the Tree of Knowledge. I am convinced we know far too much for our own good. It's a heavy burden to bear--knowing too much. A burden we were never meant to shoulder. It keeps us from truly enjoying things. It's hard to enjoy something when it could always better or more, right? And what do you do with all that info once you've got it? If it doesn't benefit the world around you, then it may as well be useless.

I just finished reading _The Magician's Nephew_ by C.S. Lewis, the first book in _The Chronicles of Narnia_ Series. These themes were heavily explored in this amazing book. Sacrifice, doing what's right, living for others and not yourself are themes throughout the series. Of course, there's absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying ourselves. God wants us to enjoy ourselves. I enjoy fashion just as much as the next gal. God gave us this world to care for and enjoy. However, enjoying ourselves doesn't always show up in the most conventional or obvious ways. I doubt that Mother Theresa, on her deathbed, wished she had spent more time coordinating her outfits with handbags and shoes. I'm certain that she felt the same as the apostle Paul

I was resolved that the only knowledge I would have while I was with you was knowledge of Jesus, and of him as the crucified Christ. --1 Cor. 2:2 (NJB)

Sound fanatical? Well, then I guess I'm a fanatic.

Forgive me, Blogger, for I have sinned...

It's been 5 days since my last blog-fession. Herein lies the primary reason why for so many years this ol' commitment-phobe has refrained from blogging. The pressure to perform. To produce. What if I can't do it? Now, I know that all my faithful readers (all three of you) aren't the ones putting that pressure on me. It's just the perceived pressure. The "I-don't-want-to-consistently-let-down-my-peeps-every-time-they-check-my-blog-only-to-see-there-are -no-new-posts-and-thus-discover-how-boring-I-truly-am" syndrome. However, most of you already know that by now anyway. Or maybe you don't. Allow me to enlighten you. If I were to peel back the curtain of my life these days, you would generally find me cutting the crusts off of PB & J's (in my spit-up stained sweats), sans shower and teeth brushed, dodging phone calls from the IRS. Sound glamorous? It's more of a post-modern glamor, I think. This is why you'll never read a blog by me entitled, "Mommy-ing for Jesus" or "The Joy of Biblical Motherhood.com". I just can't quite seem to cut it. That, and I hardly think I'm one to represent.

So the pressure to perform and to produce follows me throughout my life. Especially in being a Christian. I seriously thought about titling my blog "Parenting is Death.com" just to see what sort of reaction I would get. It definitely, more accurately describes how I feel on a regular basis. Of course, by "death" I mean death to all things that pertain to my selfish nature. Parenting has taught me just how truly selfish I am. And that, my friends, is no picnic. No walk in the park. Of course, what I get in return for dying, is Life. Jesus said,

Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self.--Matthew 16:25 (Msg)

It's so true. What I get, when I trade in my selfishness, or as Oswald Chambers said it best, my claim to my right to myself, is selflessness. When I trade in my impatience, I get patience in return. For my anger, I get God's peace. My pride, His humility. It's a rather raw deal on His end, if you ask me.

So instead of performing, life, real life, is about dying. Less of me, more of Him. In dying, we live. In laying down our lives, we find that same resurrection life and power that raised Christ from the dead. It is then, and only then, that we truly find ourselves.

More on Waiting Rooms

You wanna know another way in which this blog is like a waiting room? Have you ever found that you'll read absolutely ANYTHING while sitting in a waiting room? I mean, your options are somewhat limited. I believe I've even picked up this gem while waiting for a dental exam. You have to read whatever literature to which the owner of that particular waiting room subscribes. Sort of like you and this blog. Gotcha.

Why the "Waiting Room"?

How long should it take somebody, before they can be someone?--"Typical", Mutemath

You cannot deny that most of our lives are spent waiting. At stop lights, stop signs, restaurants, the doctor's office, for a friend who's running late, for services to begin, or a movie to start--I find myself in this humble position more often than I would like. It really is a humbling thing, isn't it? You are completely dependent upon someone else to determine when it will be your turn and call your name. When you can finally begin. The references to waiting and waiting rooms in music, movies, and literature abound. It seems that I'm not the only one who has contemplated the prevalence of waiting and how difficult it can be. Fugazi, C.S. Lewis, Sixpence None the Richer, Tom Petty...and God Himself. There is so much written in the Bible about waiting. It's very clear: We are to sit at the feet of our God and wait. Wait for His timing, His will, His purposes, His marching orders. So clear in fact, that Jesus even provides us with the example of Mary and Martha. Twice. The first time we see them all together, having a little get together with some food and friends. Poor Martha's rushing around, fretting herself with the details, while her sister Mary can be found sitting and learning at Jesus' feet. Martha finds this a bit frustrating, but Jesus explains to her that Mary has chosen what is best (Luke 10:42). So often we rush ahead because we simply don't like waiting. We're too impatient. And it's difficult when we live in the fast food, instant gratification-addicted world we live in. We are so used to immediate results that we've come to expect them. We want it and we want it now! And if we don't get it, then something's wrong, right? Well, maybe we were never supposed to have it in the first place.

The second example is found when Lazarus dies. "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." The words of both Mary and Martha. Now they knew who Jesus was. They'd seen him perform miracles. They followed Him. They were His disciples. This was echoed by the same Mary who, just a few passages before, could be found sitting and waiting with Jesus. Where was her faith now? Why wasn't she simply waiting for Him to see what He would do when He arrived?

So often it feels like we are waiting on God to show up on the scene. God, if you had just shown up a little bit earlier...God, if this hadn't happened then...God, why won't you just make x, y, and z happen? But Isaiah 30:18 says:

Yet the Lord still waits for you to come to him so he can show you his love; he will conquer you to bless you, just as he said. For the Lord is faithful to his promises. Blessed are all those who wait for him to help them.

So who's waiting on whom? Lord, conquer me so that You don't have to wait on this stubborn fool longer than necessary. I'll be waiting.

Here goes nothin'

In true form, forever slow to get on the boat, I begin my blog. I've been an avid reader of a few blogs for quite some time. A few of my friends have them. And I've wanted to join in the blogosphere for a while but have been rather busy. You see, I am the mother of three kids: Isabel, 4, Josephine, 2, and Oliver, a mere 11 weeks old as I write this. So there. There's my excuse. I'm a baby-making machine. But I have some things, so many things, floating around in my brain on a daily basis, that I thought this might be a good outlet. Hey, it's either this or forever subject my children to hearing me talk to myself. Mind you, the content will probably vary anywhere from riveting topics such as what I think of that new doofus who hosts Blue's Clues (There's only one Steve--but he left our children for punk rock), the latest contents of my son's diapers, Britney Spears' most recent meltdown, and more importantly the salvation of men's souls. Not for the fainthearted, I know. Although, I'm quite certain that as soon as I click "publish" there will be a mass boycott by the blogging community the world over due to some new information that America's heavy blogging activity is the real problem behind global warming. Go figure.

My husband was actually a major influence in my lack of web log participation for a while. Says Ren, "There's just something wrong with someone who wants to have an online diary..." Never one to mince words, that's his view on blogging. So for his sake, I will try to refrain from making it as such. So, welcome. Come on in, and stay a spell. Kick your feet up. I'm sure it'll be a wild ride. That is if I make it past post one.