Hah! 2 posts in the same day. This is my one-week-late Five Minute Friday. And the last one hosted by Lisa-Jo. (and I missed the link up because I am so late. So I will just start linking with Kate on post 3 of today.)
5 minutes on ... BEGIN.
Do you begin all things the same way? I've been pondering that today while on vacation. I don't. We do a LOT of jigsaw puzzles while we are together as a family. And we all (my family) begin them the same way. We sort through the whole box of pieces - all 1,000 or 2,000 of them. We pick the straight edges and then we assemble the outline. The border. After that, we each have a different approach - so it makes a very effective, but sometimes very confusing, adventure to assemble the rest of the puzzle. (As long as you are not listening to both my dad and my brother's directions / comments at the same time, you will be very successful in this crowd).
But I don't begin every adventure by filling in the edges. I don't define boundaries before I embark on a new adventure. Or do I? Do I set boundaries when I change jobs? Or when I move? Or when I consider if I should become friends with someone? When considering pursuing a relationship? Hmmmm. Maybe I do. I might not have every piece filled in for a fully contained outline. But there are a few things I give thought to before I begin a big change. I wonder if that's the same approach I take with puzzles? And I wonder which I started doing first?
STOP.
Friday, August 8, 2014
Finish (Five Minute Friday)
I am two weeks late for this one. And one week late for the next one. And then I will be caught up. But I don't think I can let this word pass me by.
So, as the Five Minute Friday baton passes (more on that here), everyone gave 5 minutes on FINISH.
Except I am not thinking finish - the end. I am thinking finish - the covering. You know, like the kind of the paint you use? Satin, matte, eggshell, etc? When you go to the paint store and they ask you the questions about what kind you want, and you never know? Well, at least I never know. Eggshell if you want it in a kid's room so you can wipe the fingerprints off easier. Satin in the bathroom so you can wash the toothpaste and stray soap quirts off the wall every day. (Oh, you don't have to do that? Just me? Moving on then...) Matte somewhere else, so it doesn't look shiny. Or whatnot. I still don't really get it.
But this I do get: when you use those different finishes, the walls LOOK different. And they respond differently. Trying to wash things off a matte finish leaves stuff smudged and looking lousy. Wiping off that satin finish is easy. (See toothpaste comment). And leaves the walls looking as if you just painted them. And so that got me to thinking. Yuo can also use the different finish on the same color to make a room have definition with stripes. Paint it all the matte and then put the same color over parts with the shinier finish.
I think that's how people are. I'm one body, with a bunch of different finishes. If you throw something my way and hit my matte side, it sticks. It grinds in. I can try to wipe it away but it smudges around and I am never quite the same as I was. Words do that - change people. Can't take them back. Can't undo them. And can't eliminate the effect. You can minimize it, try to make it better and cleaner, but it's never the same. But if you throw the mean comments or the bad day at my shiny satin finish then they will mostly wipe off. Mostly easily and I can keep going. That's grace right there - the shiny finish part.
Today: I am thankful that there's more shiny than matte on my finish. That grace is bigger than it was and there's more of it around than there used to be. And that every day I can start fresh with a grace-shine.
Stop.
So, as the Five Minute Friday baton passes (more on that here), everyone gave 5 minutes on FINISH.
Except I am not thinking finish - the end. I am thinking finish - the covering. You know, like the kind of the paint you use? Satin, matte, eggshell, etc? When you go to the paint store and they ask you the questions about what kind you want, and you never know? Well, at least I never know. Eggshell if you want it in a kid's room so you can wipe the fingerprints off easier. Satin in the bathroom so you can wash the toothpaste and stray soap quirts off the wall every day. (Oh, you don't have to do that? Just me? Moving on then...) Matte somewhere else, so it doesn't look shiny. Or whatnot. I still don't really get it.
But this I do get: when you use those different finishes, the walls LOOK different. And they respond differently. Trying to wash things off a matte finish leaves stuff smudged and looking lousy. Wiping off that satin finish is easy. (See toothpaste comment). And leaves the walls looking as if you just painted them. And so that got me to thinking. Yuo can also use the different finish on the same color to make a room have definition with stripes. Paint it all the matte and then put the same color over parts with the shinier finish.
I think that's how people are. I'm one body, with a bunch of different finishes. If you throw something my way and hit my matte side, it sticks. It grinds in. I can try to wipe it away but it smudges around and I am never quite the same as I was. Words do that - change people. Can't take them back. Can't undo them. And can't eliminate the effect. You can minimize it, try to make it better and cleaner, but it's never the same. But if you throw the mean comments or the bad day at my shiny satin finish then they will mostly wipe off. Mostly easily and I can keep going. That's grace right there - the shiny finish part.
Today: I am thankful that there's more shiny than matte on my finish. That grace is bigger than it was and there's more of it around than there used to be. And that every day I can start fresh with a grace-shine.
Stop.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Bloom (Five Minute Friday)
I've had this post in my head since the word was released last Friday, actually. My kids are away, so I have had to space things out to keep myself from being completely crazy while they're gone. 15 days is a LONG, LONG time for this mom to not see her girls.
Today as I write, I've had my kiddos on my heart extra. And it seems fitting that what cam to mind with the prompt is something that instantly brings my girls to mind.
This week, we're writing on BLOOM. And linking with Lisa-Jo and the Five Minute Friday crowd over here.
My girls both learned about acrostics this year in school. S in particular has become very fond of them. So when I saw this prompt and wanted to write about how I can encourage my girls to bloom - to grow into themselves - it seemed an acrostic would work. Now I can show S I really was "thinkity-think-thinking" about her while she was away.
Stop.
Today as I write, I've had my kiddos on my heart extra. And it seems fitting that what cam to mind with the prompt is something that instantly brings my girls to mind.
This week, we're writing on BLOOM. And linking with Lisa-Jo and the Five Minute Friday crowd over here.
BLOOM
My girls both learned about acrostics this year in school. S in particular has become very fond of them. So when I saw this prompt and wanted to write about how I can encourage my girls to bloom - to grow into themselves - it seemed an acrostic would work. Now I can show S I really was "thinkity-think-thinking" about her while she was away.
B
believe in them. The first step to my kids growing into what they can be is for this mama to believe in them - and remind them that I do.L
listen to them Sometimes kids don't want, or even need, advice. But they always need someone to listen. A safe zone to share their ideas. A sounding board.O
offer encouragement Failures will come. Successes will come. In the presence of both, I want to always be my girls' biggest cheerleader.O
offer grace Mistakes happen. Poor decisions get made. While discipline is needed, depending on the circumstance, often the consequences that already present are punishment enough. I have had many a day where i needed grace. And I want my girls to learn to give grace freely. To learn how to forgive. Even when it is hard, even when it hurts. It's not easy. Grace never is (at least for me). But is ALWAYS worth it. Looking back, I cannot think of one single time when I chose grace and I wish I hadn't.M
make time to spend with them This is so important to me. It's not just about being a cheerleader or loving them. It's about being intentional to spend time with them. To let them see the rest of this up close and personal. To know that they are a priority, and that their mom always will choose them. That they matter enough to get my time now. So when they leave, they will feel safe knowing that whenever they return, mom is still right here waiting.Stop.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Belong (Five Minute Friday)
Welcome to Five Minute Friday (which I celebrate on any day I make time to write!. The rules for how it works are simple:
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking. (On your own blog or in the comments here).
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
And so here are my 5 minutes on
BELONG
I have been gifted with an amazing woman for a (ex)-mother-in-law. Her name starts with J, but from the beginning she told me to call her Mom U. When her son asked me to marry him a lifetime ago, J embraced me and welcomed me to the family. She shows hospitality like no woman I've ever met, except maybe my Grammie. J can invite anyone to her home - a perfect stranger or a friend she's known for 60+ years. She treats them all the same and makes them feel like they belong, even when they are convinced that they might have nothing at all in common with anyone else who is there.
She cooks up a storm, as your stereo-typical southern hostess would, or if it's a small gathering, she makes a plate (or two) of little treats - my girls call them ma-ma-ma goodies. And there's nothing better than a snack of a recipe she's had in her family for generations. It breaks the ice, starts the conversation, and always leads to lots of laughter.
Over the past few years, our family situation has been a bit - ummm - shall we say - stormy. There's been a world of mess, hurt feelings. seemingly unforgiveable actions and harsh words. And through it all, J has still made me feel like I belong. That's no easy feat, let me assure you. She still welcomes me as if I am her daughter, even though there's now another daughter on the scene. She still loves me, and prays for me, and never hesitates to let me know that she is there if I need her.
She is filled with grace like I've seen nowhere else, and her home is always open, always welcoming. She has been an amazing blessing in my life, and one I am so thankful that has continued despite the marriage having ended. And this I know without a doubt, as much as she makes me feel like I still belong - she gives the same feeling to the new daughter. Because J serves with grace. She makes everyone in her home feel like they belong there. She has a gift of making folks feel welcome and loved. And I pray every day that I might do the same.
So ... Thanks, Mom U, for being the example we all so desperately need. You are a gift in my life. And I thank the Lord every day that I have been able to know you, love you, and be a part of your family.
Love,
Jen
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking. (On your own blog or in the comments here).
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
And so here are my 5 minutes on
BELONG
I have been gifted with an amazing woman for a (ex)-mother-in-law. Her name starts with J, but from the beginning she told me to call her Mom U. When her son asked me to marry him a lifetime ago, J embraced me and welcomed me to the family. She shows hospitality like no woman I've ever met, except maybe my Grammie. J can invite anyone to her home - a perfect stranger or a friend she's known for 60+ years. She treats them all the same and makes them feel like they belong, even when they are convinced that they might have nothing at all in common with anyone else who is there.
She cooks up a storm, as your stereo-typical southern hostess would, or if it's a small gathering, she makes a plate (or two) of little treats - my girls call them ma-ma-ma goodies. And there's nothing better than a snack of a recipe she's had in her family for generations. It breaks the ice, starts the conversation, and always leads to lots of laughter.
Over the past few years, our family situation has been a bit - ummm - shall we say - stormy. There's been a world of mess, hurt feelings. seemingly unforgiveable actions and harsh words. And through it all, J has still made me feel like I belong. That's no easy feat, let me assure you. She still welcomes me as if I am her daughter, even though there's now another daughter on the scene. She still loves me, and prays for me, and never hesitates to let me know that she is there if I need her.
She is filled with grace like I've seen nowhere else, and her home is always open, always welcoming. She has been an amazing blessing in my life, and one I am so thankful that has continued despite the marriage having ended. And this I know without a doubt, as much as she makes me feel like I still belong - she gives the same feeling to the new daughter. Because J serves with grace. She makes everyone in her home feel like they belong there. She has a gift of making folks feel welcome and loved. And I pray every day that I might do the same.
So ... Thanks, Mom U, for being the example we all so desperately need. You are a gift in my life. And I thank the Lord every day that I have been able to know you, love you, and be a part of your family.
Love,
Jen
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Exhale (Five Minute Friday)
It's nearly 3 weeks since I've written. And I am feeling the gap. You wouldn't think that 5 minutes of pausing wouldn't be such an apparent impact - at least I didn't - but 3 weeks removed from writing is starting to feel like simultaneously missing a part of my world AND starting over - jumping that very first hurdle to write.
I don't like it. And there have been some great prompts the past few weeks, so with out of order and very late fashion, I am going to catch up. Starting with this past week - which is not late yet.
*Read here how Five Minute Friday works in general. Feel free to write along. If you don't have a blog, just post your 5 minutes in the comments at the end of the post. Lack of a blog isn't an excuse not to write if you think you want to... The link up for this week is at the bottom.
Exhale.
When I think of exhaling, I think of what happens at the end of a big decision. A tense moment. This week has given me lots of reasons to reflect on some of the biggest in my life. Choosing where I went to college (Anchor Down - proud Commodore here!) Choosing to say yes to the man who asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. CHoosing to wait until that man was forced to face down the reality of his affair. Choosing not to fight him in court. Choosing to take the path of grace - for peace, for stability, for the relationship I dream he can have with my kiddos. Choosing to forgive. Choosing to believe there is a new path for me. Choosing to ask an old friend to meet me for an afternoon - wondering if it might turn into something more than a one time meet up. (It did). I sit here today and think of these choices - the paths I've taken - and I can exhale. With ease. For while they were not all easy choices, I know in my heart they were the right ones. I sleep easy at night without these weighing on my heart. I can stop. Breathe, and look toward the nezt step. The next tough choice, and while I might hold my breath when I'm making it, too, I pray that after it's done, I can sit back, exhale, and know without a doubt that I would make it again. That I can be certain I chose wisely. And I can breathe deeply with joy.
Stop.
PS remember one of the rules here is just pour it out without editing. So typos are welcome. Especially from those of us with stumbling fingers on a keyboard :-)
Link up with this week's writers here. Visit the one who linked before you. Leave a little love for the writers in our crowd :)
I don't like it. And there have been some great prompts the past few weeks, so with out of order and very late fashion, I am going to catch up. Starting with this past week - which is not late yet.
*Read here how Five Minute Friday works in general. Feel free to write along. If you don't have a blog, just post your 5 minutes in the comments at the end of the post. Lack of a blog isn't an excuse not to write if you think you want to... The link up for this week is at the bottom.
Exhale.
When I think of exhaling, I think of what happens at the end of a big decision. A tense moment. This week has given me lots of reasons to reflect on some of the biggest in my life. Choosing where I went to college (Anchor Down - proud Commodore here!) Choosing to say yes to the man who asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. CHoosing to wait until that man was forced to face down the reality of his affair. Choosing not to fight him in court. Choosing to take the path of grace - for peace, for stability, for the relationship I dream he can have with my kiddos. Choosing to forgive. Choosing to believe there is a new path for me. Choosing to ask an old friend to meet me for an afternoon - wondering if it might turn into something more than a one time meet up. (It did). I sit here today and think of these choices - the paths I've taken - and I can exhale. With ease. For while they were not all easy choices, I know in my heart they were the right ones. I sleep easy at night without these weighing on my heart. I can stop. Breathe, and look toward the nezt step. The next tough choice, and while I might hold my breath when I'm making it, too, I pray that after it's done, I can sit back, exhale, and know without a doubt that I would make it again. That I can be certain I chose wisely. And I can breathe deeply with joy.
Stop.
PS remember one of the rules here is just pour it out without editing. So typos are welcome. Especially from those of us with stumbling fingers on a keyboard :-)
Link up with this week's writers here. Visit the one who linked before you. Leave a little love for the writers in our crowd :)
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Messenger (Five Minute Friday)
Whew... gonna just squeak in under the deadline tonight.
Some days, it is really, really fun to be a messenger. When you can bring someone good news - especially in celebrating a personal achievement or in winning a remarkable honor, those are the best days of being a messenger.
Some days, it is really, really dreadful to be a messenger. If you have to bring sad news or tough news, that's not fun. I used to be an Army wife. And there was one messenger I never wanted to see. The one who bears the news of your soldier not coming home. I am thankful that in my years, that messenger didn't have to come to my door. But I have friends where that messenger arrived. We all pray for those spouses, those moms, those loved ones who's family will never be the same.
But ... do we ever stop and pray for that messenger? The person charged with bringing the toughest news a family will ever hear? I don't know that I have. But I really should. I can't even imaging being that messenger. They face down a really hard mission every time that they do that, and I'm making it one of my missions this year - to pause and pray over those messengers. To give them strength and compassion. To help them make the initial news easier to bear for the families. And to thank them from afar, for always bringing the news with grace.
Stop.
Linking up with Lisa-Jo and the gang over at Five Minute Friday ...
Some days, it is really, really fun to be a messenger. When you can bring someone good news - especially in celebrating a personal achievement or in winning a remarkable honor, those are the best days of being a messenger.
Some days, it is really, really dreadful to be a messenger. If you have to bring sad news or tough news, that's not fun. I used to be an Army wife. And there was one messenger I never wanted to see. The one who bears the news of your soldier not coming home. I am thankful that in my years, that messenger didn't have to come to my door. But I have friends where that messenger arrived. We all pray for those spouses, those moms, those loved ones who's family will never be the same.
But ... do we ever stop and pray for that messenger? The person charged with bringing the toughest news a family will ever hear? I don't know that I have. But I really should. I can't even imaging being that messenger. They face down a really hard mission every time that they do that, and I'm making it one of my missions this year - to pause and pray over those messengers. To give them strength and compassion. To help them make the initial news easier to bear for the families. And to thank them from afar, for always bringing the news with grace.
Stop.
Linking up with Lisa-Jo and the gang over at Five Minute Friday ...
Friday, June 13, 2014
The Last Day of Third Grade
A letter to my oldest daughter's third grade teacher.
Dear Mrs. P,
Thank you for this amazing year. I was nervous, I must confess. Every single day of last summer, S asked me "Mama, did the teacher letters come yet? Did I get Mrs. P? I HAVE to get Mrs. P. She is the best." And all summer long, I prayed for her to get the teacher that would make 3rd grade work. 2nd grade was hard - we transitioned to a new home, a new school, a new teacher all in the middle of the year. I desperately needed 3rd grade to work, and to work well, for her. She's a sensitive girl, my now 9 year old, and I know after this year, you are all too aware of her nature.
I was afraid that if she DID get you as a teacher, you'd never be able to live up to her expectations. Not because you are not a fabulous teacher - I know first hand that you are. Rather, she had you on such a pedestal, that I thought she would be disappointed - that 3rd grade would never be what she dreamed it could be with you. And I was afraid that if she DIDN'T have you, she'd hate 3rd grade from day 1 and it would be a long, ugly year. Not a great option either way, really.
Sitting here this morning, I am delighted to say all my fears were unfounded. Every last one of them. Not only did you live up to everything she had imagined, you far exceeded all those expectations that she held. You helped her to have a fantastic year in 3rd grade.
You encouraged her when she was unsure of her ability in certain subject areas. (Math, anyone?!) And you convinced me to let you push her harder than I thought she should be pushed - that you could get her to love math. To stop hating math homework. To look forward to it, and to believe in her innermost heart that she WAS good at math if only she'd stick with you. Thank you for that conversation we had last fall. Thank you for telling me there would be a few ugly days but you could see the light at the end of the tunnel. You were right! Most days now, she is sitting down for math homework without a fight or a grumpy word. She is excited to tell me when she's done well; when she's mastered a concept. And she can whip out those multiplication tables like she's known them forever. Thank you for seeing the potential there - for making sure that we kept her in the accelerated class and for being willing to watch it so closely. For knowing the fine line between too hard and not enough, and for walking it every day. Thank you for helping her believe in herself.
Thank you for knowing just how to handle her emotions that sit so close to the surface. For hugging her when she was sad. For seeing when she needed that. Thank you for helping to develop her confidence to speak in front of people. I have never seen her excited to present a poster in front of her class before, until you. Thank you for encouraging friendships. She has come a long way since her quiet, tentative shy moments at the beginning of the year. Thank you for teaching her to be kind. Thank you for encouraging her to show compassion and for teaching her to work through issues with her words. Thank you for fostering her curiosity and for stretching her imagination.
Thank you for teaching her, for loving her, and for making third grade everything she needed, even when I didn't know what that was.
Love,
One very grateful mom
Dear Mrs. P,
Thank you for this amazing year. I was nervous, I must confess. Every single day of last summer, S asked me "Mama, did the teacher letters come yet? Did I get Mrs. P? I HAVE to get Mrs. P. She is the best." And all summer long, I prayed for her to get the teacher that would make 3rd grade work. 2nd grade was hard - we transitioned to a new home, a new school, a new teacher all in the middle of the year. I desperately needed 3rd grade to work, and to work well, for her. She's a sensitive girl, my now 9 year old, and I know after this year, you are all too aware of her nature.
I was afraid that if she DID get you as a teacher, you'd never be able to live up to her expectations. Not because you are not a fabulous teacher - I know first hand that you are. Rather, she had you on such a pedestal, that I thought she would be disappointed - that 3rd grade would never be what she dreamed it could be with you. And I was afraid that if she DIDN'T have you, she'd hate 3rd grade from day 1 and it would be a long, ugly year. Not a great option either way, really.
Sitting here this morning, I am delighted to say all my fears were unfounded. Every last one of them. Not only did you live up to everything she had imagined, you far exceeded all those expectations that she held. You helped her to have a fantastic year in 3rd grade.
You encouraged her when she was unsure of her ability in certain subject areas. (Math, anyone?!) And you convinced me to let you push her harder than I thought she should be pushed - that you could get her to love math. To stop hating math homework. To look forward to it, and to believe in her innermost heart that she WAS good at math if only she'd stick with you. Thank you for that conversation we had last fall. Thank you for telling me there would be a few ugly days but you could see the light at the end of the tunnel. You were right! Most days now, she is sitting down for math homework without a fight or a grumpy word. She is excited to tell me when she's done well; when she's mastered a concept. And she can whip out those multiplication tables like she's known them forever. Thank you for seeing the potential there - for making sure that we kept her in the accelerated class and for being willing to watch it so closely. For knowing the fine line between too hard and not enough, and for walking it every day. Thank you for helping her believe in herself.
Thank you for knowing just how to handle her emotions that sit so close to the surface. For hugging her when she was sad. For seeing when she needed that. Thank you for helping to develop her confidence to speak in front of people. I have never seen her excited to present a poster in front of her class before, until you. Thank you for encouraging friendships. She has come a long way since her quiet, tentative shy moments at the beginning of the year. Thank you for teaching her to be kind. Thank you for encouraging her to show compassion and for teaching her to work through issues with her words. Thank you for fostering her curiosity and for stretching her imagination.
Thank you for teaching her, for loving her, and for making third grade everything she needed, even when I didn't know what that was.
Love,
One very grateful mom
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