Rewind!

Today I'm posting one of my first few posts. It was probably one of my better ones but I also have some new thoughts on it.

Here you go, from January 2008

Truly, how many bloggers are out there this week writing about how they're going to turn a new leaf and make new changes in their lives for the new year? They're going to get a better job, make more money, lose weight, what have you. Most of us go strong for a few weeks then throw our resolutions to the way side. So this year my resolutions will be tracked periodically here with my good Sister Honey Bunch by my side and maybe a reader or two.

So this year's resolution is (drum roll please)

Prepare For Rain

What does that mean? Well I watched a little movie that had an excellent story (however mediocre to bad acting) and that movie was called Facing Giants. It's a faith based movie surrounding good old southern football but what I took away from it was how faith can change your life. Now I've always been a girl who's had a strong faith, I call it my "Semi-Charmed Life" and my favorite part of the bible has always been the part about the woman who had been bleeding for an insane number of years and she goes to touch Jesus robe thinking if she can just touch it she will be healed. And Jesus does heal her saying "You faith has healed you".

My Semi-Charmed life has always been activated in times of crisis and turmoil. Things slide by and I survive by the grace of God alone. I have always had faith in his ability to protect and care for me but I've never thought of faith in him just plain taking care of me before the crisis comes. Prepare for rain is a whole other level of faith.

This comes from a story in the movie this guy tells the Football Coach. It's about two farmers who pray to God for rain during a drought, both farmers put it in God's hands but only one farmer goes out and prepares his field for the rain, which farmer do you think trusted God more?

So I have more resolutions, but this year I'm going to prepare that they will come to fruition this time. So here they are:

1. Find joy in my body
2. Eat better and exercise more
3. Get a homestead.
4. Read the bible all the way through
5. Get that Tattoo
6. Write in this blog and have fun with it.

Preparing for rain doesn't apply to all of these but my husband and I have already decided to start packing so we'll be ready to move when it does rain and I think I'll buy a pair of dream pants for when it rains. The rest I'll just track through here. So whether you care or not, here it is!

Hmmmm.... well, I sort of stopped preparing for rain and instead decided to take joy in any moment regardless of rain or shine. I like the whole concept but since then I've really decided to focus on living the day I'm living and taking joy in that day and not looking for the "What About" down the road. I'm choosing to be happy in my life now and take joy in that life and stop living with my head in the clouds. Because, its really all about the journey.

But I have done 1,2, 5 and 6 on my list. Thats a start :)
Have a super Thursday!

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Mean Kids Suck: Part Aaaaaggghhhhh!

Blog post is a fr\e-run, Yeah I'm with you folks   who wants to keep watching the thesame episode ofRoss and Rachel break up?  Clearly, they were on a break.  Of sorts. hateHaving gone through all that just to say:   The following  this a post I wrote a couple years ago but sister tSassy and I and I decided it's time to relaunch the old blawg and this is our way of doing it. Lazy,though it may be. I ass I assure you there  will be plenty of new posts on here to bring you up-to-date on my recovery from that bastard (pardon my coarse language) stroke I had and sister Sassy's new family members and the book she recently published!  You could say would been a hare bit busy uphere in the great North. My intention after catching yall upon the excitement of our lives is to go back toWhat I've always loved to write aboutried:  Tori Spelling movies, Hallmark movies, parenting and some Jesus  I'll also throw in some posts  abouts my passion for running It's a fairly new obsession, which makes a couple of my friends roll their eyes CLEANout of their heads at meThey are full of love for me but they hate the whole running thing while sitting cozy on the couch

I think I might be having an heart attack. Or I am just all nerved up because I am so angry at a bunch of fifth grade girls who think it's OK to pick on a kindergartner. My kindergartner to be exact.

Logan was at the bus stop and I was sitting at the end of our driveway waiting for him to be picked up so I could head to work. I was drinking my coffee and picking at my nail polish when I looked up and saw Logan kicking all the girls. Kicking them.

I was horrified and started shouting at him to stop. Then the bus came and I drove to work wondering how I had managed to raise a bully when I'm just a big old wimp myself.

When I picked Logan up later that day he told me the girls were calling him names and he didn't like it. It made sense to his 5 1/2 year old brain that the way to shut. them. up. was to kick them in the shins. And while it worked, I had to explain to him that I don't think kicking girls is cool. Even if they're obnoxious fifth graders who think it's OK to pick on a small child.

I want Logan to always defend himself, but I put an end to the kicking. I told him that if they start saying mean things again to just get in their faces and tell them to knock it off. Tell them they can't call him names. I also told him that girls can sometimes suck.

I certainly don't think all girls are mean. I was one of the nice ones. I hated watching the mean girls make fun of people, and whisper in front of others, and laugh when someone made a mistake. Why do they act that way? A friend of mine has a theory that mean girls have mean moms.

I told Logan I was going to wait with him at the bus stop the next morning. He begged me to not do that. He wanted to handle the situation all on his own. He didn't want his mama fighting his battle.

When he walked up to the bus stop the next day I was ready. If those girls did one single thing that seemed out of line, I was going to have a little chat with them. But they didn't do anything. As a matter of fact they were very nice and all the kids talked and laughed while they waited for the bus.

That night when I was putting Logan to bed I asked him about it. He said,
"I asked God to make them be nice. And he did."

Hmph. Alrighty then. Why hadn't I thought of that?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OK. And in completely and totally unrelated -but-oh-so-freaking-happy news, Jenny Garth has signed on to reprise her role as Kelly Taylor on the new 90210.

Dude. I don't care if this makes you think less of me. This is some of the best news I have heard in a long time. Shut up.




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Moving on Faith

I lived in Chicago for 1 year, during that year I was a stay home mom. This is a brief long drawn out story about how instead of putting my head in an oven, JimmyEW and I moved on faith alone.

As soon as we moved to Chicago, pretty much everything possible went wrong as could go wrong. Within the first week it started. We were damaged heavily in the financial area, it set us back years. Happiness was not Chicago.

I couldn't afford to work because of the cost of daycare, and my extreme fear of leaving the boys with someone I didn't know made it even tougher to find someone. Especially since HB's first daycare lady (not Daycare Diva) had a baby die in her care around the time I was contemplating trying to work.

It seemed my only option was to open my own daycare or get a job at a daycare, pay for them to be there while I watched other kids, and probably not make much money. My only hope was to keep my focus on three years in the future, when Boogs would be in Preschool and Kiki would be in Kindergarten.

Wow, that was a long way away. My coping mechanism was not ever thinking about tomorrow. Tomorrow was WAY TOO FAR AWAY. Perhaps the three years wouldn't have sucked if I'd had any friends to hang out with periodically, which I really didn't. And I did not fit in at all in the neighborhood we lived in. Here's me with my $2 garage sale umbrella stroller talking to a mom who can barely lift her hand for the heavy rock on her finger, pushing around her $800 Bugaboo. I'm sorry, I just don't have anything in common with that.

So, I was a bitch on wheels. No one could do anything right, except Bag of Cookies, and I loved them unconditionally. They said all the right things, was quiet when I needed them to be and was always around when I needed a friend. Mmmm....cookies, what can't they do? When people would ask me how I was, my answer was always "I'm maintaining". I got it from the movie Dick. Great flick!! Ooooh! That rhymed! I dealt with it.

One day my landlord/neighbor/friend/only thing that kept me sane, told me he couldn't handle the city anymore and was moving. I couldn't fathom living there without them in my backyard. They were the bright spot in my lonely days. All hope was lost for me.

Then one day we left the city to visit my hometown. JimmyEW and I went out on a little date, I guess I had enough appeal left in my personality for him to want to spend some time alone with me. It was that day, back in Hometown, that he said he saw the old Sassy back and decided that we could move back home.

"Back home" you say? Yes, we had moved to Chicago from Beautiful Northern Michigan, where "The View of the Bay is Half the Pay" and the business owners believe that, for the most part.

JimmyEW told me while we were visiting, that we could move to my Hometown. Personally, I had never wanted to settle down in my hometown, but anything was better than Chicago. So I was happy. But then, on the trip home he suggested that moving to Hometown wasn't so different from Northern Michigan and made the suggested that we just move back. I cried I was so happy. I called my beloved friend and mentor Marcia and excitedly told her. I called everyone I had left behind...which was just two other phone calls lol.

So we made ready. It was August and our lease was up in October, we had 2 months to pull it all together. I started applying for jobs everywhere I could. I called, I hounded, I drove them insane trying to get them to interview me. Nothing. Same with JimmyEW.

Many people thought we were doing the wrong thing. Lots of different people told him to move me out to the suburbs and make me cope. I don't know how many times my mother or a sister told me they thought I had post partum depression. I would get irate, and scream that it was NOT post partum! I was miserable! I was lonely! My husband worked a lot! And we were ruined financially! We couldn't survive there. It was SIT-U-ATIONAL! I didn't want a pill to cope, I wanted to change my SITUATION!

It was now September and we decided that in October I would move regardless, and if he didn't have a job yet, he'd stay in Chicago on my friend's couch until he got a job. I would move, alone with the kids, and keep looking for work. People thought I was crazy, but I knew this was the right thing to do.

It was the second to last week in September and both JimmyEW and I were called for an interview. We both went, found an apartment and signed a lease. I went to my interview and was offered the job making $10,000 less than I was used to making. I wanted it, but my face visible fell when I saw the number. We had done numbers and there was a break even point that I had to get for it to make sense for me to work.

Seeing my face fall, the man started back peddling, saying if I opted out of benefits he could increase and then he'd talk to the owner and see if they could go higher. For some reason he must really wanted to hire me. This is especially funny since the person who would be my supervisor, and later friend, put my resume on the NO pile. Once again, faith coming to save my day.

The next day was JimmyEW's interview. We were at the park when he drove up with a big fat smile on his face. They'd offered him a job at about the break even amount we'd discussed! It would be about a $10,000 pay decrease for him and no company car or gas card, but we'd be home.

We went back to Chicago, packed our crap, I got a call and they offered me a package that had a bit of an increase with a promise to look at it in 90 days and I took it. When JimmyEW got his offer letter and we thought it was a typo. Because, it showed him as making $13,000 more than he was expecting! A freaking pay RAISE and a view of the bay! Semi-charmed life, welcome back to Sassyland!

I moved back home, starting work, put the kids into a daycare that I knew and trusted and JimmyEW came two weeks later. Everything worked out perfectly, just as it should have. We left and moved, putting it all in God's hands to provide for us and He did.

Chicago wasn't all bad. Here's a brief visual overview to things I thought were kind of cool about Chicago.

Sunday in the Park (with Kiki's head and a sleeping Boogs who had a MASSIVE meltdown in the Art Institute. Allergy to dairy, as it turns out)

The thing that kept my head out of the oven. My Landlord, neighbor and friend. He would sit with me, sympathize with me and play with my kids. He was a stay home dad of a 2 year old and I love him and his wife. They made my life bearable.
I also saw people a lot more often. Sister Mary Elephant , for one, who lived about 45 minutes from the city. She'd drop in and spend time with me, do wonderful things for me, clean my NASTY house and play with the boys. I miss her lots :( I also got to see my best friend who lives in KY. She was only 5 hours away. That was a big con to moving.
My beautiful friend who lived in the city, but is a very hard worker and has a very active social life so I didn't spend nearly as much time with her as I'd like to. She is my children's social justice Goddess Mother and I love and miss her.

And of course, the best, we got Boogs in ChicagoBut... it just wasn't home. I know people say that your make home where you are, but we were just in the wrong place. And so it goes. Sometimes you have to do what you know is right for you, even if everyone else is telling you not to.

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Lions and Christians and Bears, Oh My! My 10 years of Spiritual Darkness

As many of you now know, I grew up in a cult. My cult was weird and sometimes the ministers said or did things that were hurtful, but for the most part I feel like I mostly took the good. Like a strong sense of faith and close relationship with God and left most of the bad. I felt like I always knew what I was getting with them.

I always felt very close to God. My father and I didn't get along that well and so started to see God as my father, as odd as that may seem. I would talk to him constantly in my head, during quiet moments or laying awake at night waiting for sleep to come, I'd just talk to him. And I felt very much like God was the reason for what I call my "semi-charmed" life.

God was with me when I was alone, at night when I was scared and just whenever I felt like talking. And I loved him. Now my sisters may find this surprising because I am also very quiet about my faith. Not because I'm ashamed (or at least not then) but because I just felt very private about it. My church taught us to pray in private and I grew up thinking it to be a very sacred and personal thing.

Then I went off to college and met my Jimmy Eat World. He was a born again Christian active in a campus christian youth group. Since we didn't date till the very end of the school year freshman year it wasn't until Sophomore year that I met the people from his group and started attending some of their meetings. By that time we were already engaged, since he waited a full few weeks to ask me to marry him.

During the summer we got engaged, we had a conversation that would end up causing a major hurt that last for 10 years. Somehow we were on the topic of religion and prayer and I was talking about how my church didn't talk a ton about Jesus and our relationship was more with God than with Jesus. I knew and believed in Jesus but God was who I prayed to. He said something to me that essentially meant that God didn't hear my prayers and it hurt so badly I began weeping.

Well he clamped his mouth shut and never brought up the topic again. But now that I was going to his meetings and he was a Small Group Bible Study Leader it became an issue. But not between us.

The leader of the campus group (who I began referring to as Bad Man) called Jimmy in and asked him whether or not I was Christian. Jimmy, going off of the one conversation we'd had that summer, told him no. So Bad Man told Jimmy that he either had to leave me, forcefully convert me or lose his position as a leader.

Jimmy came to me and told me this, pulled out some chart they'd given him and went through the force conversion. I cried the entire time and by the end he determined I was indeed a Christian and forgot about it.

But I didn't. For weeks after, really we refer to this time period as the month of November, I would weep uncontrollably. We'd be walking home from the dining hall and I'd collapse into the grass and just cry. I was so hurt and angry because I'd always been so strong in my faith and now, the people who were supposed to be examples of real Christians, were telling me I wasn't good enough. My relationship with God wasn't good enough. My cult had made me, as a person, feel not good enough. But never my faith.

Jimmy couldn't understand why I wept and why I hurt until finally I was able to get him to see why it hurt me so. He cried, said he was sorry and all seemed well. But it wasn't. God seemed gone from me. I believed as much as ever before but I didn't feel him around me anymore. That loss was huge in my life. I tried to get it back, I prayed to get it back, I cried and pleaded. But no matter what, I couldn't find it and I couldn't fake it.

I continued going to his little group gatherings and tried to make friendly but I always left feeling less than. All conversations turned to whether or not this person or that was or was not a christian and how doing this would be a great way to witness to people.

I wanted to scream at them that human beings were not some slabs of meat, that they had thoughts and feeling. When I asked them about being friends with non-Christians they'd say,
"Oh yes, Bad Man encourages us to be friends with non-believers so we can bring them to Christ."

That was all non-Christians were to them, just fodder to convert and not worth a second thought otherwise. This disgusted me. But oh well, they weren't my friends and they weren't really Jimmy's friends either. But gradually I found myself generalizing all Christians as believing the same way and slowly I became ashamed to call myself a Christian. Even though I was.

Ten years went by and I was still unable to talk about what happened without breaking into tears. We tried to go to church but walking into a large group of Christians scared the heck out of me.

One day I sat with a professed Christian outreach worker who worked with the homeless and told him my story and you know what he said? Pretty callously he told me to get over it. Gee, if it were that easy I would have done that TEN FREAKING YEARS AGO! Rather than walking around spiritually broken. But thanks for your advice Professed Christian Outreach worker.

I had come to terms that there was nothing I could do to get back what I felt had been taken from me.

Then we moved to Chicago and everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong. As more and more things went wrong I started to feel the need to find a church and after searching the nets I found one I thought I would feel safe at. I don't remember the denomination, maybe Lutheran, but I went there and we were greeted with such love, welcoming and acceptance that something in me healed.

I guess that little congregation renewed my faith in Christians. When it was time for us to leave Chicago I emailed the pastor about how much his church meant to me and he responded with a thank you and an apology for the "spiritual abuse" I had suffered. I had never heard it called that before but it resonated with me.

I guess I just wanted to share this story, people have asked where my 10 years of spiritual darkness came from so here it is. Some of you may think it sounds angry and accusing, and if so, I am sorry. This is only the truth of what happened to me and the truth of my feelings.

I can embrace my Christianity now and I feel God inside me again. I have found a beautiful, wonderful church that I'm very proud to be a part of. I am lucky. There are many people out there that have been harmed spiritually and never find their way back. And I want to say, to anyone out there that ever felt harmed by a Christian in the name of Christianity, I am so very sorry.

For more of What DOESN'T Work for you, go see Shannon!


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God, The Remote and Lurking

I was talking to my friend the other day and she told me she had to stop reading this here ol' blawg. (I just reminded myself of my dad, saying it that way.) Apparently I talk about God and TV too much and she isn't a fan of either one.

I found this to be pretty funny and an accurate representation of who I am. I loves me some Jesus, I go to mass each week and I'm in a small group study. I also schedule these activities around my favorite shows. Like American Idol. I can't miss my boyfriend David Cook singing to me. Or LOST. Or The Office. Or Wife Swap. Or Samantha Who. You know, just to name a few.

I spent a good portion of Saturday afternoon folding laundry and watching The Real Housewives of New York City. Now while these housewives aren't nearly as disturbing (or depressing) as the Housewives of Orange County, they are still a train wreck.

The wives are social climbers to the extreme. They neglect their children in favor of going to parties, out to dinner or attending the latest openings. They judge each other harshly. I'm not sure how these women can be friends frankly.

They're not as bad as the skanky characters in Sex In The City, but both shows make me think that NYC is full of plastic, empty, sad women with really great shoes. And yet, I cannot look away.

That's probably why I enjoy the blog world so much. I love to write, but I love to read even more. I get to peek into someone's world for just a few minutes and see how they're doing, what they're up to.

Piper started a new job, she's a single mom and she is truly finding herself. Many of her posts make me cry they are so touching.

Amy Beth is the founder of a ministry that focuses on young girls. She's single. She's funny. She prays for rain so she can wear one of her many pairs of Wellies.

Big Mama quit her job and is forging a new life with her family. Which often includes snack cakes and handing out fashion advice.

Rachel's boyfriend is going to Iraq. June moved to a new town, started a new job and admitted she's not really in love with her dog. Shalee's trying to sell her house. Bossy just got back from her road trip. (And she commented here. ) (We feel like freakin' rock stars.) And who doesn't read P-Dub?

It's not just in the blog world where I am allowed brief glimpses into people's lives. When we're driving home at night, I can see houses lit from the inside. Families are doing homework at the table, watching TV, moving around in the kitchen. I'm always so curious about how people live, are they happy, is there something missing? And I love to see how they decorate. Or don't, for that matter.

It seems I have passed this strange curiosity on to my almost-six year old son.

We were parked in front of (The) Home Depot yesterday waiting for Tom to bring out the stuff we purchased. A family was walking toward our truck on their way to the entrance.

Logan said, "Mom, roll down my window so I can hear what they're talking about."

I thought my heart would burst with pride. And I complied. Because I get that need to know about people.




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Aprapos

The other day a friend from work came up to me and gave me this card.

Apparently, about a year ago, she found this in a bookstore in Utah or somewhere and bought it for me. I had told her not too long after meeting her how my favorite passage in the bible was always the woman who was reaching for Jesus's robe, thinking, if I can just touch him, I will be healed.

Jesus felt her touch him and I believe he felt the healing leave him and he turned and saw her and what he said to her was

"Your faith has healed you".

And I've always took that to heart, for as long as I remembered. If I just believed it unwaveringly, it would be so.

She had this for me a year ago and just now found it. I told her maybe she lost it so she could give it to me when it mattered. A year ago it would have been nice, but now it's pertinet...aprapos...poingnant. All of those things. Perfect.

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Sometimes you need a little "Come to Jesus"

We celebrated all weekend. We ate, drank, laughed, smoked candy cigarettes and played WII until the early hours. We were massaged, facial-ed, manicured and catered to. And the entire time I was unable to relax and enjoy my time with my sisters the way I wanted.

I had that constant, anxious feeling in my stomach. You know the one I'm talking about. It just gnaws and depresses and fills you with a big ol ugly ball of dread and worry. You try to pretend it's not there, put on a happy face and go through the motions.

And if you're lucky like I am, you have someone like Sister Big who has a "come to Jesus" with you before you get in your car to drive home.

Big said "Honey Bunch, I want you to take the next month and focus on getting a new job. This one is sucking the life right out of you." It seems that she found my behavior a tad bit worrisome. I've lost my mojo and instead of partying like a rock star (Who am I kidding? Partying like a rock star's boring older sister) I sat back and watched everyone else have fun.

We discussed how different I've been since I had Logan. How my postpartum depression threw me off balance and I lost my self-confidence. I continually sell myself short. I Accept jobs that are not a good fit or below my level of qualifications. I get bored or stressed and look for something new, which means constant change and little peace. (Ya'll wish you had your own Sister Big, don't you? She's good at the little "sit-downs".)

It has become a vicious cycle that needs to stop. Now. Because I am ready to enjoy my life. Experience the moment and not feel unsettled and worried. I'm ready for change.

So, today I will begin networking. I will assume I will get a position where I can make a difference. Today I will believe that I will find the best job where I can have the biggest impact. Where I can build a fulfilling career for a long time to come.

I believe positive thinking makes a huge difference. I believe in the power of prayer. Who's with me?


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What Would You Do If You Weren't Afraid?

The Hotfessional posed a similar question last week: What would you do if you knew you WOULD NOT fail? That got me to thinking about Sassy pestering me back in my single days about what I would do if I wasn't afraid.

I had become a bit of a magnet for men who were in love with themselves. Which is always buckets of fun for the girls they date. (Insert big fat eye roll here)

I wanted a nice guy. I even made a list of qualities he needed to possess. (I still have that list and whip it out when I'm annoyed with my husband. I use it to remind myself why I chose him.) I was looking for someone who would treat me with love and respect. Make me laugh. Who was smart, loved his family and had good friends.

(If you are single, hear me now: If you're dating a guy who doesn't have friends, there's a reason girls. Run away fast. OK?)

After listening to me moan and groan for the one-thousand-and-tenth time about how I would die alone and lonely having never been married, Sassy debated between smacking me upside the head or making me take a hard look at myself. She asked me what I would do if I was NOT afraid. It was a great question.

I would put myself out there. I would be creative about meeting worthy men. Clearly, I would post my profile on match.com. And that's what I did and I met Tom, got married, had a baby, and we're living happily ever after. But it was very scary for me to trust my instinct. I was afraid of getting hurt again.

I've been asking myself this question a lot lately. What would I do in every area of my life if I wasn't afraid?

I would stick my neck out and make more friends and not be afraid that they would think I wasn't funny enough, cool enough or skinny enough.

I would ski with Tom and Logan and not worry about falling on my butt or getting cold. Or feeling like the fat girl on the slope.

I would go boating with Tom's friends and wear my swimsuit. I would swim and ski and tube instead of covering up or hiding behind my kid. I would enjoying the full experience.

I would climb a mountain.

I would exercise regularly and HARD and not freak out when my heart starts to race. It is normal and does NOT mean I'm going to have a heart attack and leave my kid an orphan.

I would wait for the right job to come along instead of taking the first one offered just to get off this broken down, rickety old scary bus.

I would start a social/professional networking group for Christian working moms and not wonder what my agnostic/atheist friends and stay-at-home-mom friends think of me.

I would entertain more, volunteer more and give more.

What would you do if you were not afraid?

You can post anonymously if you wish, but I would love for you to share with us.

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Happy Easter

I hope this post finds you well on this Easter morning (or just Sunday Morning for those that don't celebrate). The boys didn't sleep in and JimmyEW had to get to work at 5am this morning. Yep, its his weekend to work.

Unfortunately we won't be able to go to church today, my church had sunrise service at 6am (which isn't actually sunrise since it's 7:27 and its still dark. But there was no way I could pull my buggers out of bed and get them to church that early and on my own.

After I attempt to get the boys to eat something healthy this morning I'm going to go to the store because I forgot to get stuff for Easter dinner. And when I say stuff, I mean everything. I have nothing. So we're gonna head out in an hour and hope to miss the last minute crowds. Then we might head out to the JimmyEW big box to say hi.

Now down to the nitty gritty. For today's Easter post I'm going to share some pictures I took for last year's Station of the Cross art exhibit. You can see two of the main images and the finished product. My station was actually the part where Jesus takes up the cross. Anyway, JimmyEW has a classic Jesus type body, as depicted in art, so he was kind enough to pose for me. Even though he was fighting a massive sinus infection. I love these shots (the first two), I love the color and the lines and everything about them, but I don't have names for them.

So if you can think of a fitting title for the first two pictures please leave the suggestion in my comments. I'll post later what the title is and link to the person who suggested it.


Here is the finished product. I put other pictures that weren't my most favorite on a poster board behind the cross. The cross is a decent size, the picture in the center 16x20 if that gives you any idea.
So have a good day!
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The Cross

Every August our little family takes an End of the Summer trip to Mackinac. Along the way we always stop at The Cross in the Woods in Indian River, MI.

While we're there we we climb the Holy Stairs that lead to the shrine. Then we take meditation walk in the woods, which includes different saints along the path.

Finally, we light a candle, say a prayer and head North to Mackinac, the water park and all things fudge.

Here are some pictures from our trip two years ago.





















e e










If you're looking for today's Frump Fighting Post scroll down.

If you're looking for Sassy's latest edition of Fiction Friday, scroll down some more.

Happy Easter, friends.

Do You Have Affluenza?

Last Sunday I learned about a vicious disease called Affluenza. A horrible illness that has struck most Americans and leaves them debilitated.

It starts with an burning sensation, usually around the pocket area where you keep your wallet, then it creeps into your world, causing distress and emptiness. This illness causes perfectly normal people to feel perfectly unhappy and dissatisfied with their life. The symptoms include the drive to accumulate "stuff", the burning need to "keep up with the Joneses" and the all consuming fixation with having more than. Do you have Affluenza?

We were challenged to imagine that we were told we had to leave in 10 minutes because of some great disaster. We could only grab three things and whatever it was it had to be something we could carry. I racked my brain to think of what three things I'd bring and all I could think about was if a pack of diapers and a pack of wipes would be considered one item each or if each diaper counted as one.

Then I started trying to figure out what I'd do with a child who poops WAY TOO MUCH (I have one that poops too little, and one that poops all the freaking time), would I get the baby underpants and just wash those? I guess he'd get potty trained much quicker. After a few minutes I stopped thinking about poopy children and started listening to the sermon again. And this is what I took from it.

Mostly, we could look around our homes and realize that we could live without pretty much all of it. Most of it is just "stuff". He read a passage from this book that I can't remember the name of but if you really really want to know email me and I'll find out for you. It was called something like Following Jesus in a Consumer Driven Society and it pretty much said this.

If you wake up and feel joy from sitting in your backyard in the sunlight listening to the birds sing, enjoy sitting with friends and talking, have a healthy happy sex and marital life, get pleasure from watching your children playing...well, then, in our society you are considered useless because you haven't spent a dime yet.

On the other hand, if you are unhappy, empty in your friendships and your marital life, if you are stressed by your family and children are feel empty inside. Well, likely, you'll go looking for something at Target or Nordstrom to fill that void. And you'll be more valued in our world.

Every ad out there on TV and in Magazines will be directed at you and will tell you that you are not complete without pictured item. Essentially, it says "take Prada bag and insert in mass void that is your life" And we buy in to it.

So I've been thinking about this. The constant drive to get more "stuff" and how bad our mass consumption and wastefulness can be as a culture. And then I started thinking about the Frump posts as well and how much of what we post about frump involves shopping for the right stuff.

And I was wondering how someone can work on following all the non-frump rules while reducing consumption and not accumulating more "stuff". Besides, many people might not feel like they can go out and buy a brand new wardrobe or perhaps they are trying to cut down on their consumption.

Or maybe this post will make you think about cutting down on yours. Because what I'm hoping to show you is that you can get some perfectly unfrumpy "stuff" second hand and why second hand is a really good option.

Sarah mentioned last week in HB's comments that she is losing weight and doesn't want to go buy a new wardrobe when she isn't at her goal size. Yet, she does want to look good as she is now, dressed in Non-character t-shirts and not wearing skinny jeans of course (I do read the frump posts, thank you-even if I wear the occasional t-shirt that is on the What Not to Wear list).

Anyway, my suggestion is to check out your local thrift store or consignment shop. And if you go the way of thrift you will also be helping out a worthy cause. Even better, when you go, take your bag of old frumpy clothes with you and leave them there. That way you're keeping your accumulation of stuff at a minimum and helping out a good cause at the same time! Everybody wins!

Now let me tell you about my thrift experience on Sunday morning. I've been in need of a pair of dark brown pants for awhile now. What did I see at my local Goodwill but a pair of nice brown dress pants in MY size (well, a little big, I guess the running is working) and get this-ALREADY HEMMED! JimmyEW said "You can't find that at the mall!" and that is for sure. The best part? They were pink tags so they were 50% off and ended up costing me less than $2.

I also got a pair of flawless Old Navy jeans in my size and length! Those were $6. And I almost got these boots-if they'd only been 1/2 size bigger I would have gotten them. They'd look awesome with my brown argyle tights and my brown cord skirt.

While I was there I saw these brand new shoes for only $3 and change. Many non-profit thrift stores have deals with local retailers to take the items that don't sell. So

you get a good deal on a never worn pair of shoes. Nice huh?

What does shopping thrift have to do with Affluenza and consumption? I would say that shopping thrift is like an inoculation against Affluenza because even if you are getting some very high end chic things, you still know that you didn't pay full price and that someone else wore it first. And knowing is half the battle.

But also the great thing about shopping this way is that you are helping keep stuff out of the landfills by purchasing them and loving them as your own. AND you're also not directly supporting companies that use child labor or sweat shops. Sure the top you bought at the thrift store may have been made by a 10-year-old somewhere, but your money isn't going to that company in any way shape or form so you can wear your goods with a clean conscious. This can also work for those people who love their leather but don't like the thought of some poor cow giving up it's skin.

So I guess my point is, you may already have a ton of stuff but I'm sure there is more stuff you need or want. And we drive ourselves further into debt trying to get these things that we probably don't need which leads us down the path of Allfluenza. So reuse, buy used and leave some stuff of your own there when you do it.

For other ideas about living simply check out The Simple Family and Nester and I'm sure there are a ton of other ones out there. If you know of a good site let me know!

AND for some great tips for daily living go see ROCKS IN MY DRYER.

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Freeing Your Heart

Do you ever have an uneasy feeling? Something nagging at the back of your mind just out of reach but there enough to cause you distress? I have that right now and I don't know why. Actually I think I'm afraid of something...I've made mistakes in my past, who hasn't, but every now and then I get this fear that some of them will come back to haunt me.

(mom, close your eyes)
Like during my brief moment of sexual activity during college (before I settled down with JimmyEW). I did the the deed with not the most...uh... savory of people. This was during my self destructive phase after Gabriel and I broke up in college.

Anyway, for years after that I would obsess about any strangeness down below. Every little weirdness freaked me out. I mean, after my one sexual encounter with him (and let me just put out there that was was my "boyfriend" at the time) I did get tested for HIV. I was pretty sure he didn't have it and we'd used protection the ONE time we did "it", but I was still paranoid all the same. But it wasn't until years later, when I was pregnant with Kiki, that they ran the whole slew of tests to rule out any sort of STD and finally put my mind at ease once and for all.
below photo from Nice Kind of Wierd's Flickr
But there are other skeletons in my closet that are scratching on the door. I can't shake it and I, for the most part, know they are all in my head. But I find myself withdrawing and worrying. I am afraid. These skeletons for me could be anything from an ex psycho boyfriend to the tyrantical boss that lives in town that I'm terrified to run into. Thats another story.

But specifically I don't know what is bothering me. Especially since JimmyEW assures me that nothing from the past can ever hurt us now that we have each other in the way we were meant to. I know this with with my heart, but my head won't shut up. I think my heart knows a lot more than my head, but right now my head is being the loud obnoxious one.

This makes me think again of John Eldredge and his book Waking the Dead. He talks a lot about how our culture and world try to silence our hearts. He says we don't pay enough attention to our hearts and we are clouded by the world we see with our eyes. He uses scripture to show how the heart is the wellspring and how we are meant to see with our hearts and not our eyes.

" They don't see. They are in a fog, under a spell. Their hearts are shrouded (2 Cor. 3:15;4:3-6) O God, take this shroud away
You will not think clearly about your life until you think mythically. Until you see with the eyes of your heart." Waking the Dead page 61


I need to strengthen my heart so it can kick my head's ass and make it shut the hell up once and for all.

Who's with me? What do you say? What does your head say that your heart knows not to be true? How does your head hold you hostage?? Who wants to join me in silencing our heads and setting our hearts free? Because frankly I'm sick of the second guessing and paranoia of my head.

Endnote. I feel much better. It took a bit of putting it in God's hands and a nice nap and I feel at ease again. Thanks be to God.

And Now for Tag Time!

We've been tagged by Valerie. I guess you grab the closest book to you open to page 123, find the first 5 lines and then post the next 3 sentences. I cheated and put 5 though because I couldn't bear to stop mid paragraph. So here is mine

"The Spirit Teaches us by bringing us to the place where we begin asking spirit questions instead of flesh questions. Spirit questions are questions from desperation. They arise when you reach the end of all the flesh question. When we finally ask a spirit question, the Holy Spirit will give us an answer. It's interesting how quickly the answer comes once you ask the right question."page 123 of The Rest of the Gospel (currently featured in our sidebar under What Sassy's Up To).

H0neybunch, you can add your part tomorrow or to the bottom of this.


Ok, I'm tagging Jane the Sane, Fish and Ashlee

And one final thought.

Isn't this the sweetest bugger you've ever seen? He so cute he rivals Ashlee's kids (who we all know are cuter than mine)!

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And A Child Shall Lead Them

This is my kid four years ago.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was certain I was having a girl. We even had a name all picked out-Madeline.

Then I learned it was a boy.

I'm sure you can imagine how surprised I was. And how overwhelmed. I already had plans of tea parties and doll houses and prom dresses.

Now we needed to select a whole new theme for the nursery, come up with a name and adjust to the idea of fishing and football.

Look at this kid. He is sweet and special and a snuggle bug. He's 5 ("and a half, mom!") and loves to ski and ice skate and play soccer.

He also does the icky boy stuff like talking about farts and using the word "wiener". I hate that stuff.

He likes to read the book about how Jesus died on that "stick thing" and asks questions like where the heck does the Easter Bunny fit into the whole picture. Because while the sacrifice is important, that bunny has chocolate.

This kid has a huge heart and understands that he is lucky and some kids are not. He sets aside his toys and clothes to give to them, because he knows it's his job to help others.

He has developed a faith that I could learn from.

We stopped at a Goodwill store on a lark to see if there were any hockey skates in his size. I knew there wouldn't be. Anything of value is snatched up before it hits the shelf there.

As I turned the car off, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw Logan close his eyes and say "Please God let there be skates in my size, a hockey stick and shin guards. Thank you and I love you. Amen."

While I found that precious, my immediate thought was "Crap. Now I'm going to have to have the talk with him about how our prayers aren't always answered the way we would like."

Except Logan's was. Every single thing he asked for was there and in perfect condition.

So this kid also teaches me lessons. Every day.

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I'm Afraid of the Monkey's Paw

I have this illogical fear that drives my husband insane, but I can't help it. I'm afraid of the Monkey's Paw.

For those of you who may not know about the Monkey's Paw, its a short story about a man and woman who get this magical monkey's paw that grants you three wishes...only the wishes come true in the most horrible of ways imaginable. The man and woman first wish for money for a house payment. Soon after, they get word that their son is killed in a horrible work related accident and they get his settlement money. It only goes down hill from there. If this story doesn't sound familiar, check out the spoof version from the Simpson's.

Now why am I afraid of the monkey's paw? I don't know, clearly I don't have a petrified primate appendage hidden in my closet, just something about that story got to me. The byproduct is I find myself terribly afraid of wishing for more than I have or even praying for a blessing. Crazy isn't it? Jimmy tells me all the time that God doesn't work that way and in my head I know it, I think I just fear some sort of repercussion for not being happy with what I have. Or perhaps its my "the world revolves around me" complex that leaves me feeling like everything that happens is some how my responsibility. Good and bad.

I guess right now, particularly because I'm a little stressed about money and wanting to be able to buy a home and stay put for good, I have been looking for a few blessings. So I find myself talking to God and asking for a blessing but specifying that it not come through harm to anyone or anything. Then I sit around feeling guilty and wondering how I'd feel if something awful did happen to someone I loved and I found myself with that thing I wanted. It's a vicious cycle and its pointless.

However with my new focus on preparing for rain and trying to better understand faith and grace, I'm trying to let go of this weird thing. So I leave you ... and myself I guess, with these two verses I found.

Luke 11:9-10

And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.
For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.

and

Matthew 21:21 Jesus replied, "I tell you the truth, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, but also you can say to this mountain, 'Go, throw yourself into the sea,' and it will be done. 22If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer."

That second one has given me something to chew on. Oh, and sorry if the petrified hand if it gave you the willies.

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Welcome to the Chapel

Is it bad form to blog about my "other" blog on this blog, if it serves a good purpose? If it is, too bad, I wear striped tights, have purpley hair and am in control of the keyboard for today's blog. Sorry :) But really, I think it's a good thing so please do read if you don't mind.

My other blog (and by "my" I mean JimmyEW and I...but mostly me) is called The Chapel and I conceived this blog while writing a prayer for my ailing father in the hospital chapel. I thought about all the people out there who might believe in a higher power but not belong to a church or have people in their lives that pray. Or perhaps they just might be too afraid to come forward with whatever they're struggling with and putting their prayer in a book like what I saw in the chapel at the hospital seemed like it was writing a note to God.

I called JimmyEatWorld and told him that I thought this was something we could do together to give people a place to go for prayers. I want people to use prayer post Chapel to write a note to God while giving readers the opportunity to pray for those in need of comfort.

I have no agenda with The Chapel, I just want people to be able to use it to find comfort no matter their religious beliefs. Sure I'm using a typical catholic looking priest in the picture but it is meant for all people. I suppose someone could happen by and read a Prayer Request then say a quick prayer to L. Ron Hubbard...do they pray to him? Someone get Tom Cruise on the phone, STAT! But that doesn't really matter, its here for anyone who just wants some good thoughts/prayers sent out into the cosmos on their behalf.

JimmyEW agreed it was a good idea and got us set up on blogger. Initially we wanted to be prayerpost but someone had that so we are prayerpostblog. However his schedule and all my other commitments haven't given me the time to commit to putting this blog out there for others to use and see and benefit from.

In my lamenting I happened across Jane the Sane and since her name suggests that she must be practical and ...sane...I decided to ask her what she thought. She was very practical and suggested I do a post here introducing it to everyone and to post a little icon saying "need a prayer" that will link over. Wow Jane, thanks for that tip, I don't know why I didn't think of it! So here I am...posting...and stuff.

So I'm calling out to all of you, anyone who is interested can be a contributer. Send an email to prayerpostblog@gmail.com and we'll add you as a contributor and specify if you want to receive emails when there are comments made. And if we have lack of prayers submitted through the prayer post email - or a contributors email, you can feel free to add content about prayer in general or just pick something out there in the world you'd like to pray for and post that. Like praying for children in a third world country or that Sister HB stops feeling guilty about EV-ER-Y-THING.

Thanks for your time and I hope you'll stop by soon. This is my one and only shameless plug.
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Shut-up and Walk. Church Chat with Sister Honey Bunch

Now don't go getting all scared and leave me because I said "church" (I'm looking at you Rachie). I'm not here to preach at you or try to usher you into heaven. That's not my style.

As ya'll know, Sassy and I (and our six siblings) grew up in a bona-fide cult. Yes, we most certainly did.

When we went to church, we heard sermons that told us not to eat unclean meat, not to socialize with unbelievers (and you were an unbeliever by virtue of not attending our particular church.), not to do anything from Friday sunset to Saturday sunset and to set aside 20% of our gross income for the church. Except for every third year, when we had the privilege to give them 30% of our income.

What we didn't hear was how to love, how to serve and how to live in a way that helped our fellow human beings. We didn't get "churched".

Christian service by the cult standards was basically supporting our own flock. Certainly not helping the poor and needy. We might give them a free magazine, but we weren't going to feed them a hot meal and talk to them about their problems. No siree. They were sinners.

We didn't learn the true meaning of being Christian. We didn't learn that we are here to help people. To love them. I don't care if you sit in a pew every Sunday and take your kids to Bible school. What are you doing to make a difference in our world?

Are you just Talking the Talk, or actually Walking the Walk?

I have been completely changed by following the bloggers on the Compassion International trip to Uganda. These children need us to help them. And we can. For only $32 each month we will change the life of a child by giving him or her healthcare, education, clothing and hope. (The really cool thing is that 80% of the money we donate goes directly to that child's care and education.)

Please read these posts here and here and then go visit the rest of the bloggers here ,and think about what you can do to help.

Amen? Now that is church. (You still here Rachieroo?)

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