Moving With Danielle

I am moving with Danielle. Well, not exactly. I'm moving to Word Press with Danielle. You can find me at ordinarymother.wordpress.com. Or, just click here. By the way, if you are using bloglines, you will need to add the wordpress account. Can't wait to show you my new place!

lost links

I messed with my template and that is why my bloggin' buddy links are missing. I will have them up soon, Lord willing.

My Crazy Little Bro

My brother has a warped sense of humor. He sent me this self portrait last week. Isn't he cute?! Like father, like son!

Linen Storage

I finally tamed the beast...my linen closet. And I will admit to the fact that several times yesterday I opened my organized linen and just stood there admiring it. Sweet order...even if only for a little while. While I was working I remembered one of my favorite organization tips found in one of the many home management books I read during a strange obsession.This obsession was more with the books than the actual organizing, but still, there were a few things I did adapt that have made my life easier. One of them is how to keep your bed linens organized. Fold your fitted sheet, top sheet, and other pillow case (if there are two) , stack them, and put them inside the other pillow case. It's like a little pouch. When you go to make a bed you just pull out the linen pouch and voila! it's all there. It doesn't look perfect, but it sure beats trying to track down the matching miscellaneous linens, and it definitely looks better than my version of folded fitted sheet. Here's what it looks like in real life.

My First & Best

I said I would share a few thoughts from the retreat I attended a couple of weeks ago, but my good intentions were swallowed up by all-things-ankle-surgery. In fact, where last month I had serious blogger’s block, it seems this month I have tons of things I want to write about or pass along. Today’s pearl of wisdom comes from the teaching Dave Harvey gave entitled What Does Women’s Ministry Mean For Me? Though it was directed to pastor’s wives, the first point has universal application to Christian wives and mothers. That point was stated like this: “The primary role of the pastor’s wife is to serve and support her husband and family.” Dave continued to say “Husbands and kids are the first & most important responsibility. Therefore they deserve your first & best effort.” This means the first and best of my time, talent, creativity, and energy should be spent on my husband and children. This means that every other good pursuit (exercise, blogging, entertainment and leisure, even other aspects of ministry)* will have to get second best or lower. Perhaps the most helpful insight was when Dave pointed out that the fatal flaw of feminism is that it assumes women have multiple best efforts. This simply isn’t true. We can buy into the Christian version of this lie and think that we can “have it all”. We can host play groups, make meals for others, go to the gym, decorate the house exquisitely, have a little home industry, etc.* But the truth is, if any of the good things in that list begin to infringe on my first & best effort, I am not effectively doing what is my primary calling: to serve my husband and children. I love how Dave finished this section of the teaching. He said, “Your first and best effort in the home releases him [my husband] into the field in an undistracted way.” My commitment to giving Jason and kids my first & best directly impacts Jason's work, which happens to be ministry. I truly want the best for my husband. At the same time I feel this constant pull to invest my creativity in such a way that others see it and say, “wow, she is really creative!” I want to exert energy on the things I enjoy: writing, cake decorating, hospitality, reading, etc.* In fact, many of these things begin as an attempt to give Jason and the kids my first and best, but they morph into complex and extravagant entities in and of themselves…before I know it, I forgot to feed the kids lunch because I was too busy making a fancy birthday cake for them; or I gave Jason only half of my attention in a conversation because I was really wanting to read this article on being a godly wife. How can I who am constantly bent towards self-orientation – to the point of turning things that seem others oriented into something about me – really give my husband and my family my first and my best? I can only think of one way…because another gave His first and best. The Father gave the Son, a perfect sacrifice, to atone for my sins, and clothe me with Jesus’ righteousness. Because of Jesus’ death my sin which pulls me in to myself, is forgiven. Because Jesus rose from the dead, I can have victory by His grace and strength to serve out of genuine love for others, beginning with my husband and children. *I want to be sure that my readers know that these are my issues. They might not be yours. I would hate for anyone to feel unnecessary guilt if they are pursuing these things. In truth, your husband is the one who could best tell you if certain activities aren't serving him and the family. I only give specifics to help make the abstract more concrete.

You know you have brothers when...

...your mother asks you to get her a screw driver and you say, "flat head?" ...you bring your mother a live frog and say, "isn't he cute?" (yeah, no problem kissing frogs for my little princess). ...you come upstairs and calmly tell mommy, "I think I have a bug behind my ear." then proceed to remove a tick and hand it to her. (I have heart palpitations just typing this. I'm okay with all bugs and spiders except for ticks. Ugh!!! and yes, I called the pediatrician about the possibility of lyme's disease and she said because it didn't embed itself -ew!- she should be fine...but I'm still checking her body nightly for a red bull's eye mark). That's my girlie!

One Day When I Get My Act Together...

I find myself living in the, “someday, when I get my act together I’ll…” mode often. It consists of this little fantasy world with visions of me doing all kinds of stuff that the real me just can’t seem to do. I find it frustrating to not know what the magical catapult to hurl me from here to there is. I was sharing this frustration with my husband who gave me some very wise counsel that I want to pass on. He said something like, “we often want the big grand moment when permanent change will take place and we will have our acts together, but our pride could never handle that. So God gives victory in the little things instead, but we are too often looking for some huge change and don’t notice the grace in ‘little’ victories.” He went on to tell me about something he saw on Antiques Roadshow (we love this show, me for the antiques; Jason for the history as well as the rush from seeing someone’s yard sale bargain turn into a retirement fund). A woman’s mother died leaving her a travel trailer and its contents. The contents included a small, simple painting of a sailboat race. When the appraiser informed the woman that its value was over $100,000 the woman just started crying and said, “if only my poor mother knew what she had…” It wasn’t a Rembrandt or a Van Gogh. Indeed, we don’t even know the author’s name, and certainly had never seen this piece of art before. But it had far more value than the owner realized. This is what our lives are like. There will rarely be “Van Gogh art” moments when we finally have our acts together. If we go through the day looking for Van Gogh, and don’t see the simple work of art hanging in the trailer, we are poorer for it. Father, please help me to see the amazing grace at work in my life and in the lives of those around me each and every day. This grace comes because of the Gospel. Help me not to be ungrateful for the small steps in the right direction, or arrogantly assume they are just me doing what is expected, rather than the Holy Spirit at work in and through me, again, because of the Gospel. Help me to have eyes to see Your artwork in the everyday events of my life, to the praise and glory of Your grace given through the Gospel.

Guarded With Gratitude

Imagine for a moment that your city were surrounded by enemy forces who aimed to destroy you. And you are aware that enemy sympathizers live and work in the city with a view to undermining the city's defenses. And suppose you discover that there is song which the enemy and their sympathizers cannot tolerate or approach. Whenever they hear it, they pull back and run the other direction. Isn't it certain that you would want to learn this song? And after you learned it you would sing it when you went to bed at night and when you got up in the morning. You would sing it on the way to work, and whenever you were among strangers. And as your confidence grew you would even venture outside the city and sing it as you walked boldly through the enemy lines on your way to another town. The more deeply imbedded in your mind the song became, the more steady and deep and serene and fearless your life would become. Others would see and hear and learn the song from you. And in the end you would conquer the enemy, and there would be no threat at all. Well, we are surrounded by the enemy—namely, Satan and his forces. He is "the father of lies" (John 8:44). His weapons are deceit and delusion. His aim is the destruction of your faith and love. And there are enemy sympathizers inside the city of our own souls—namely, the desires of the old self. And there is a song that Satan and his sympathizers cannot tolerate or approach—namely, the song of thanks to God. –John Piper from Guard Yourself With Gratitude

I find the battle raging today. The old self with its tendencies toward grumbling and complaining, self-pity and selfishness conspires with the Enemy who tells me my help comes from a change in circumstances, or escape from my duty here. I am grateful for the reminder that gratitude is a guard for my soul today. Beyond the immediate very tangible and abundant mercies around me, I am grateful for the source from which they come: my Savior, Jesus Christ. He lived a perfect life, never grumbling or complaining; never indulging himself rather than doing his Father’s will; always giving pity to others not Himself. He died my death. He took upon Himself the punishment my grumbling, complaining, disobedience, and self-pity deserves. I now stand forgiven, justified, and adopted. I who am weary today come to Him who is gentle and humble in heart. Gentle, humble in heart, and yet ruling and reigning in power and wisdom and authority…seated at the right hand of the Father. Worthy of all glory and honor and praise is He. How grateful my heart is for the beautiful Savior. Ah, sweet peace!

Really Yummy Banana Bread

I have been on a quest to find a really good banana bread recipe. I used to have one that called for cooking oil as opposed to butter that was moist and delicious, but I lost it somehow. Well, yesterday I found a similar recipe online. It's too good not to pass along. Really Moist Banana Bread 3 c. sugar 3 eggs 1/2 tsp. vanilla 3 c. bananas, or more (I use 5-6 bananas) 2 tsp. soda 1 1/2 tsp. salt 3 1/2 c. flour 1/3 c. water 1 c. oil 1 tsp. cinnamon 1 c. nuts (we do chocolate chips instead of nuts) I mixed the wet ingredients first, combined the flour, soda, salt separately. Added dry to wet. Stirred in chocolate chips last. Makes 2 large loaves of bread. Put in 2 greased and floured loaf pans and bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes to 1 hour.

Who's Helping Whom?

I wrote this yesterday... I am sitting in the waiting room of an outpatient surgery center. Jason just left donning his gown, robe, slippers, and fancy hat…no, he would not let me post the picture I took with my camera phone. It occurs to me as I type that in the kindness of God, I am going to have opportunity to grow in the very area I experienced conviction over during one part of Girlie Time last week. Let me give a little bit of background first. I attend a church that teaches, encourages, and affirms biblical womanhood. I can articulate our beliefs about this. I am excited about these beliefs. I aspire to conform more and more to what I believe. This is a work of the grace of God. Given my selfish pride, the fact that I find femininity as biblically defined appealing, beautiful, and desirable is absolute proof that miracles do happen. However, I have noticed that there are inconsistencies between my profession of belief, and how it functions in my life. I know that this will be the case for as long as I live here dragging around a body of flesh, but still – in this particular area it seems easy to look at certain externals and think that I am living this whole complementarian thing, when really in the day to day there are ways I operate as an "equal in function" type wife. One inconsistency I am aware of is a recurring pattern that is perhaps the byproduct of distorting Jason’s call to “servant leadership” in the home. You see, Jason excels in serving, and I excel in being served. What’s the problem?! I remember when it first dawned on me that there was a “problem”. I was in the kitchen at that dreaded hour when the children go bonkers, I make dinner, and Jason runs late at the office, and I caught myself thinking (or perhaps the Holy Spirit helped me to hear my own thinking), “I can’t wait until Jason gets home to help me.” Now even more revealing than the fact that I wasn’t just happy to have him home because I am madly in love with him was the fact that I was functionally viewing him as my helper. The follow up thought was, “well, if my kids weren’t so close in age, and I wasn’t tired and pregnant , I wouldn’t be so dependent on his help…” (These thoughts look rather benign typed neatly in black and white, but were the emotions able to be translated in writing, they would be bold face, red, and all caps.) It is fitting and appropriate for Jason to serve when he comes home. The problem was that I was demanding this and taking advantage of his desire to be a servant leader. God in His mercy continued to bring conviction and clarity. At a marriage conference we sat under a teaching that included the phrase “masculine helpmate”. Ouch. This is what was happening. I am ashamed to say that there were many days in the early years of our parenting when I would call my husband, give him an earful about how hard my life was, manipulate a break from my circumstances, and functionally view him as my helper when he was at home. The difference between my fist twinge of conscience, and this revelation during the teaching was that Jason also heard the latter. What he always thought was simply growing in servanthood, was actually not serving me at all. It was, in fact, confirming the lie I was already believing that grace to serve my husband and family turned off at 5:30 pm. Because of Jason’s courageous leadership (and I use the word courageous for a reason), I have seen change taking place. The phenomenon of counting down the minutes before my helper arrives is not as common. Still, Jason and I find ourselves in this cycle from time to time when he seems to be serving me to the point of indulgence, and I am taking advantage of his willingness to serve me. In this season it is manifested in the realm of him taking on domestic responsibility to fill in the gaps where I'm lacking. So here, in the waiting room, I anticipate what is sure to assist my fresh resolve to give Jason my first and best effort. He takes such good care of me, I am happy to be able to serve him rather extensively for a while, and re-align my heart to be his helper, not the other way around.

Thank you for praying

Everything went well today. We are grateful to God for His kindness to us. We survived the surgery...and the drive home! We thought it funny (?) that the nurse labeled his ankles "yes" and "no" prior to the surgery. Thank you for your prayers on our behalf.

Please Pray For Jason (and me)

Basketball and Jason have a rather toxic relationship. Just three years ago, after tearing his ACL and PCL while playing basketball, Jason had knee surgery. Today, he is having ankle surgery to remove a bone chip, re-attach and tighten ligaments, and something else I can't remember. How did he injure his ankle? Basketball, of course. I have to say that I respect my husband's commitment to this sport that has treated him so poorly. Donned in braces and wraps he plays at 6am every Tuesday and Thursday. He loves this sport! I am praying that Jason's surgery would be successful, and the recovery as short as possible. We are both praying that God would be glorified in both of our lives through the process, Jason through the difficulty of not being able to get around easily and all that this involves; and I through the opportunity to serve my husband in a more pronounced way especially over the three or four days he will be completely out of commission. If you have a moment, will you join us in our prayers?

Retreat

Last week I spent three days in a hotel enjoying a retreat with other pastor’s wives from the region of Sovereign Grace churches Dave Harvey oversees. The kindness of God, expressed in the kindness of the ladies of CFC opening their annual pastor’s wives retreat, was evident in many ways. Slippers. Yes, slippers were one of the creative ways Kimm Harvey sought to bless us and make us feel like this is just one big slumber party. We didn’t call this a conference, or a retreat. We called it “girlie time”…and from the pretty name cards, Victorian centerpieces, gift bag (including chocolate, breath gum, and the sound track from Pride and Prejudice), laughter and tears…girlie time was the perfect name. Kimm Harvey is truly one of the most personable individuals I have ever met. She set the tone, and sustained it with her sincere desire to bless us, as well as her love for a good time. Many thanks to this lady who worked so hard and served us so well! Seriously out of place men. Aron Osborn and Dave Harvey provided the outstanding teaching we received bringing sharper focus to our role as women biblically defined, and more specifically with application to how this looks for pastor’s wives. Small groups. One huge blessing from the retreat was the small group I was blessed to be a part of. Each lady shared insightfully, articulately, and humbly. Wow! Talk about your dream discussion group…anyway, I am so happy to have had the privilege to get to know ladies that I have previously only seen from a distance. Scheduled personal retreat hours. Yep. Two block times were carved out of our schedule just for me, God, and a few good books. I am so grateful for this opportunity. Armed with Carolyn Mahaney's personal retreat outline, much coffee, and a God-given understanding of my desperate need for this time, I received much encouragement, refreshment, and direction for my day to day life. Sharing. Because I wish you could have all been there with me, I am going to hopefully do the next best thing and share some highlights over the next few days. This is to help me as much as you. It is amazing how already, less than one week later, it is already a bit foggy. I look forward to sharing with you what God showed me during those cherished days. Whether it is insights from ladies in my growth group, parts of the teaching that I found helpful, or my personal responses to both of those things, I hope to pass along at least a little bit of the grace imparted to me through this retreat.

In defense of Mari...lou

Okay, if you haven't been yet, you'll need to read "gentle sobbing" in order to understand this explanatory post. Here are a few facts to consider now that you've heard the story...true story, mind you. First, we laugh about this story with Marilou pretty much at some point during every staff wives growth group. She is a good sport, but thinks we're all crazy, which leads me to my next point. Second, the passengers involved in this story, aside from shotgun riding daughter, are freaks in the car. We are all very nervous drivers, and even more nervous passengers. What Karen so innocently described as "bringing a magazine with her to share for our amusement" is really her coping mechanism when riding in anyone's car. Karen has been known to read grocery receipts in the car to distract herself from even the best of car rides. And I, I mean, Laurin...have posted about my own nervous tendencies to slam an invisible break or gasp out loud spontaneously when riding in cars with other drivers. So keep this in mind as you read Karen's view of the whole thing. Third, we all had a wonderful bonding moment that night...that's what happens when you have a near death experience!

Karen Complied

Yahoo! Karen wrote the story about our near death experience on the way to Gaithersburg last year. You can read it right here. Thanks, funny girl. I truly am grateful for a friend who provides "good medicine" to my soul on a regular basis. You will be sorely missed at the retreat this week...and by the way, guess who ISN'T driving us there?!

Random and Requests

Two of my favorite things are converging: Girl Talk and reading. Looky here! Maybe this is pushy, but I have a few requests for my bloggin' buddies to write about the following things: 1. Karen Hevesy (who last night described a mullet as "business in the front, party in the back") please blog about our near death experience on the way to the CLC Titus 2 Tuesdays last year. Everyone, leave comments in Karen's blog begging her... 2. Danielle, please write that post about fashion. For those of you who don't know her, Danielle has fantastic taste in all things, including clothing...feminine, stylish, and modest. 3. Any of you homeschooling moms...could you blog about your educational philosophy, curriculum choices, what you've found helpful. I would love to hear all about it!

Celebrate Good Times!

beginning the day with a little love for Caleb. Sweet Birthday Girl (This cake came together with the combined creativity and brain power of my sister-inlaw, Ab; her mother, my friend Tracey; and me.) cool corn picture My friend Briana introduced us to our new corn on the cob obsession. You peel back the husk, but keep it attached (wrap it with a rubber band). Then, roast the corn on your grill using the husk-handles to turn it (handles are not on the flame), then brush the hot corn with mayonnaise, and then roll it in a mixture of Parmesan cheese, chili powder, and garlic salt. Voila! Amazing corn that looks cool. blowing out the candles. Look how cute Charli looks in the background! Cute cousins! left to right: Daniel, Caleb, Josh, Sierra holding Charli, Maggs, Izzy holding Jack. Maggie on her first big-girl bike My five year old beauty! Thanks to Tracey for taking many of these pictures (any of the cute ones were taken by her...I took that first blurry one :). Coming soon: Party #2 - the Reyes clan. We had to celebrate separately this year because Abuelo and Abuela are in England.

She's My Maggie Doodle Dandy

Five years ago today, we woke up on the Fourth of July with sick boys. Coughs, runny noses, and fevers meant we wouldn’t be going to the annual church picnic at Brian and Tracie Young’s house. Frankly, being uncomfortably pregnant, I was not really in the mood to do heat, humidity, and…a bathing-suit! And just as an aside, how in the world do you preggies do the whole stay skinny except for the belly thing? I fight bitterness when I see how cute Tara and Jessica look. I get pregnant from my nose to my ankles, eat like a linebacker, and deal with the weight loss later. Anyway, back to my story. Even though my due date was July 9th, and my midwife said my cervix hadn’t changed at all, I was determined to do all that was in my power (which, we all know is absolutely nothing) to have another holiday baby. (Izzy was born on Thanksgiving Day – his birth story is the best complete with Jason getting stitches over in the e.r. while I labored in the maternity ward). We decided to take the boys to the mall so that I could walk…and walk…and walk. Nothing happened. We did all of the other things you read about to get labor going. I’ll spare you the details, but I’ll just say mineral oil is best taken with a chaser of orange juice. We even drove on Singer Rd. (which we now call Maggie Singer Rd.) because I always had contractions going over the hills. I did start having contractions, but nothing in a pattern. Time passed and as the evening hours commenced I gave up on a fourth of July baby because I reasoned that even if I went into labor now, I would never have the baby by midnight…I do the whole get an epidural, slow down your labor thing. Then around 7pm I was on the phone with my sister when I had a rather strong contraction. This was random. My other labors were text book beginning with mild contractions for a while, then increasing in intensity and closer together in time. I had other little and big contractions but they were spaced erratically like two minutes apart, twelve minutes apart, etc. so I didn’t think I was in labor. By the time my inlaws came to visit I was contracting really well, and I have fond memories of Emily and Debbie timing contractions while I paced the living room. I told Jason they were five minutes apart and hurt pretty badly so it was time. The car ride to the hospital was crazy. I was having really bad contractions. I called everyone to meet us at labor and delivery because I thought I might be further along than usual upon arriving. We arrived at 9pm at 7 cm. Margaret Olivia Reyes was born at 11:10 pm, 8 lbs. 15oz to parents who had no idea she would be a girl! That was the best surprise of my life. I am so glad we waited to know what we were having (which was really hard for me, especially at the sonogram). I found out with my first three, but for this one – my last (?) – I decided to be surprised. I was overwhelmed at the kindness of God for a great labor and delivery, and a healthy baby girl. I still think it says something of God’s care for the little details that she was born on the fourth of July, less than an hour before midnight. Maggie is the girl of my dreams. She is sparkly, sweet, and feisty (a lot like her aunt Karyn). She is tender hearted, and loves to sing songs about Jesus (that she makes up herself). Panera Bread is her favorite restaurant. What five year old do you know who orders an asiago cheese bagel with sundried tomato cream cheese? She has coffee parties, not tea parties (pretend of course, but if I let her, she’d be a coffee junkie like her mama). Her favorite color is pink. She loves Target, like her mother., and shares my affinity for fun shoes and purses. Maggie is my little helper. She enjoys helping me cook, and sets a beautiful table for tea/coffee parties. She loves getting flowers from daddy and brothers (totally upstages mommy on the ooing and ahhing). All of this, and she can wield a light saber, tackle her brothers, and loves mini-coopers, p.t. cruisers, punch buggies, and jeeps. That’s my girl! Happy Birthday to the princess of the family! Happy Birthday to my little sparkler! Happy Birthday to my Maggie Doodle Dandy! (Party Pics coming soon!!!)

Foolish Girl: Confessions of the Mediocre Poster Child

I am not a good legalist, but that doesn’t seem to keep me from trying. Let me explain myself. I am not one of those capable types of gals who got straight A’s in highschool, jogs 5 miles a day, keeps a house that is consistently in order, bakes her own bread, trains her children to read at age 3, and makes her husband’s lunches everyday, complete with heart shaped sandwich and note of encouragement. I know girls like these. They are amazing. I’m not accusing them of legalism, but if they had the inclination to be legalists, it would be understandable – they are good performers; they are achievers. I, on the other hand, consider myself the poster child of mediocrity, and that could be an overestimation. I made average grades, hate jogging, can’t open my linen closet without an over crowded towel or two tumbling off the shelf. My daughter can’t read, but knows her letters and sounds because of a leap frog dvd, the closest thing to homemade bread I make comes in a can, and my husband drinks a slimfast shake for lunch these days sans any little notes of encouragement from his wife. It would seem to me that my mediocrity would set me up nicely to know that I will only be able to do this life in a manner worthy of the gospel by the grace of God at work in me. Even more convincing should be the astounding number of failures I experience each and every day. But still, when I consider the standards of God’s Word with regard to glorifying Him as a woman, rather than consistently cast myself upon the grace and mercy of my Savior and pray for the help of the Holy Spirit, my reaction is often to reduce the standard to something even I, the mediocre poster child, can maintain. I get frustrated by the biblical principle, so I set my eyes on some practice that I can do without the Helper. This is foolishness. I was reminded of this again when I read an article by Paul Tripp.

“The fool doesn’t need grace because he keeps telling himself that he is able. In order to convince himself that he’s able, he erects a human second-best standard that he can meet. That’s what legalism does. Legalism, in rejecting grace, erects a human second-best standard that I can keep.” Paul Tripp Wisdom in Counseling from the Journal of Biblical Counseling Volume 18, No.2; Winter 2001

If this is foolishness, what is wisdom? Again, Dr. Tripp is helpful.

“The wise man is not afraid of his inability, because he knows that Christ’s grace is sufficient. However, the wise man is afraid of the delusions of human strength, because those delusions will keep him from seeking the grace of Christ. The wise man can glory in weakness because he knows of the sufficiency of Christ. The wise man is approachable, able to be corrected. The wise man is humble, waking up every morning saying, “I am a person ingreat need. Thank you Lord, that you are in my life. There’s hope for me.” (from the same article)

When my capacity collides with my calling as a wife and mother in particular, my reactions can range from self-pity (poor me, I’ll never get this thing right!), anger (why am I not changing!), legalism (hey, I may not be loving my children with a tender affection right now, but I did take them to the pool today) or humility (God, I need You). In other words, I can be a legalistic fool, pursing a pitiful standard that I can keep, or I can be a wise woman casting myself always on the mercy and grace of God. So the next time I try to run with the achievers and end up either crashing and burning, or seriously simplifying the course, may I see my foolishness and run to the throne of grace, boasting in my weakness the entire way.