"On Fridays over here a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real."
http://thegypsymama.com/
GO
I seem to have always struggled with finding my identity.
In high school I was never one of those kids who was good at that "one thing," I was just semi-not really-kind of- pretended like I was good at many different things.
Even through college and in the early years of my marriage, my identity was a subject that constantly threw me into a state of inward battle.
Because frankly, I am flaky.
I am undefined.
I am forever changing. My opinions ever swaying.
I am neither this, nor that.
And I have grown to embrace it.
And my husband, well I think he tolerates it. And laughs at it. And loves me all the same.
The only thing on which I want to place my identity, is the cross of Christ.
Everything else... Who knows? Certainly not I!
STOP
Friday, May 11, 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Please pass the earplugs.
"ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
And that is the sound you will hear if you spend more than five minutes at the Frizzell household.
It has translated to many different statements....
"I'm bored."
"Feed me."
"I just left a gift for you in my diaper."
"Why is it so quiet around here?"
"I have an impeccable singing voice, don't you think?"
"Why are you looking at me?"
"Why aren't you looking at me?"
"I smell coffee. Hand it over and nobody gets hurt." *
How could such a sweet,little sort-of-little thing make such a big noise?
Poor Andy, who has always had a difficulty with loud noises, has learned how to manage, and even laugh at, these random and LOUD outbursts. Bless him.
True, with becoming a parent there are many sacrifices to be made...
Like sleep. And your eardrums. And your obsessive compulsion to keep things in an orderly manner. And alone time. And date nights. And sleep. And drinking your coffee before it gets cold. And sleep. And taking a shower before 5pm. And sleep. And going to the bathroom alone. And sleep. And sleep. And sleep.
But man. It is SO worth it.
In this exceptional book I just finished, Spirit-Led Parenting, (a must-read for every new mom) the author says,
Every giggle. Every smile. Every reach of the arms that says, "pick me up." Every open-mouth, slobbery kiss. Every crinkle of the nose. Every twinkle of the eye. Every excited little kick of the legs. Every turn of the head to make sure you're still watching. Every clap of the hands. And even every heart-attack inducing, ear-splitting, unfathomably loud exclamation.
These are those moments.
These are the things that turn all of those "sacrifices" into tiny grains of sand on our vast beach of love. (Like, totally far out, dude.)
Just last night, it was a fight, yet again, to get Eden down to sleep. (Someone please tell me why babies fight sleep so much? I don't get it! Sleep is a beautiful thing. I, for one, happen to love it.) After an hour or so of this night time battle, I finally surrendered to this strong-willed 7 month old and brought her back downstairs, curled up on the couch next to Andy, and, with tears in my eyes, I exclaimed, "I am so EXHAUSTED!"
And then this baby, who only minutes before had brought upon me loads of frustration, looked up innocently in my eyes and gave me that beautiful, gummy smile that I love so deeply.
And in that moment, I felt grace. And humility. And that heart-bursting love.
For my Father continually pours out redemption upon this strong-willed 26 year old, whose selfish nature is, regrettably, in daily battle with His will, His good and perfect will.
*Don't worry, CPS, we do not give our baby coffee. But she is a Frizzell, she was born with an innate desire for the liquid magic, hence forth her strong proclamations on the matter.
And that is the sound you will hear if you spend more than five minutes at the Frizzell household.
It has translated to many different statements....
"I'm bored."
"Feed me."
"I just left a gift for you in my diaper."
"Why is it so quiet around here?"
"I have an impeccable singing voice, don't you think?"
"Why are you looking at me?"
"Why aren't you looking at me?"
"I smell coffee. Hand it over and nobody gets hurt." *
How could such a sweet,
Poor Andy, who has always had a difficulty with loud noises, has learned how to manage, and even laugh at, these random and LOUD outbursts. Bless him.
True, with becoming a parent there are many sacrifices to be made...
Like sleep. And your eardrums. And your obsessive compulsion to keep things in an orderly manner. And alone time. And date nights. And sleep. And drinking your coffee before it gets cold. And sleep. And taking a shower before 5pm. And sleep. And going to the bathroom alone. And sleep. And sleep. And sleep.
But man. It is SO worth it.
In this exceptional book I just finished, Spirit-Led Parenting, (a must-read for every new mom) the author says,
"There are moments in parenting our children when we feel as though our hearts might burst, so deep and extravagant is our love for them. How incredibly and wonderfully kind of God to allow us to experience this level of connection to our children that we might know a little more of how He loves us."
Every giggle. Every smile. Every reach of the arms that says, "pick me up." Every open-mouth, slobbery kiss. Every crinkle of the nose. Every twinkle of the eye. Every excited little kick of the legs. Every turn of the head to make sure you're still watching. Every clap of the hands. And even every heart-attack inducing, ear-splitting, unfathomably loud exclamation.
These are those moments.
These are the things that turn all of those "sacrifices" into tiny grains of sand on our vast beach of love. (Like, totally far out, dude.)
Just last night, it was a fight, yet again, to get Eden down to sleep. (Someone please tell me why babies fight sleep so much? I don't get it! Sleep is a beautiful thing. I, for one, happen to love it.) After an hour or so of this night time battle, I finally surrendered to this strong-willed 7 month old and brought her back downstairs, curled up on the couch next to Andy, and, with tears in my eyes, I exclaimed, "I am so EXHAUSTED!"
And then this baby, who only minutes before had brought upon me loads of frustration, looked up innocently in my eyes and gave me that beautiful, gummy smile that I love so deeply.
And in that moment, I felt grace. And humility. And that heart-bursting love.
For my Father continually pours out redemption upon this strong-willed 26 year old, whose selfish nature is, regrettably, in daily battle with His will, His good and perfect will.
*Don't worry, CPS, we do not give our baby coffee. But she is a Frizzell, she was born with an innate desire for the liquid magic, hence forth her strong proclamations on the matter.
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