Prayer Challenge

Just a quick post before Eden wakes from her nap...
While browsing Pinterest, I came across this prayer challenge, and I was just overcome with conviction. I know I need to pray for my husband, and I try to often, but in reading this, I knew I had to change my quick and simple "thank you God for Andy" type prayers.
Who am I to hold Andy to such a high standard of husbandry expectation, if I'm not praying daily, and in great depth, for him?
Our lives have drastically shifted in the last year, with the birth of our daughter. And while I so often pretend that our relationship is as it once was, truthfully I know that I there are so many times that Andy is not receiving the full amount of love, attention, and respect he deserves. And so I take on this challenge, committing to pray this daily for my husband. Will all of you other wives join me? Let's hold our husbands to a higher standard, keeping them accountable. If we want our husbands to be the spiritual men we know God has created them to be, we must first do our part as their wives, and be in daily and active prayer for them.

Like a Bridge Over Troubled Waters...

So something strange, and a bit unnerving, has been occurring at the Frizzell household as of late. No, no it's not Andy's missing facial hair (though it has taken some time, and a few long ruminating stares, for me to become acclimated to his new look). Recently our sweet little 6 1/2 month old daughter has been crying. I know!!! Preposterous!!! But it hasn't just been her normal, everyday, "I'm hungry," "I'm sleepy," I'm poopy," cries. Rather, it's more of a "I'm in a glass case of emotion!" estrogen-filled, dramatically rendered, 6 month-old version of typical teenage-girl despair. One minute she's fine, smiling and cooing in that innocent, sure-to-soon-be-dripping-with-southern-drawl, little voice of hers, and before we know it, this once sweet child is hysterically, inconsolably crying, arms flailing and legs kicking. Then the next minute, she's laughing! (Laughing at our momentarily panicked reaction is what she's really doing.) And like a spinning record, stuck on the same verse, the process is repeated. Over and over. Whenever this happens, Andy and I can't help but look at each other and laugh (as soon as we realize she's not in dire need of medical attention), for we know, this is merely the beginning.(Andy is a youth minister, after all.) She is her mother's daughter.

And so I write this, not really for the benefit of any of you crazy people who actually read this fair-weathered blog, but more as a future reminder to myself: this girl has pure, raw (and sometimes in controllable) emotions. Something that is evident at only 6 months of age, and without a doubt, sure to increase over time. AND THAT IS OKAY. No matter what her age, no matter what the circumstances, her feelings are valid. They are real. And even if the problem is seemingly minute to her most-likely-to-be-clueless parents, to her, it may feel as if the world is crashing down. I want to be a mother that listens. Who, at the very least, tries to understand, even if it at times seems impossible. Who fights for whatever she deems worthy enough to fight for herself.
Not once do I ever remember my own mother telling me to "stop crying." Even if my emotions were flying off the handle and completely unreasonable, my mom treated them with a credibility that they most likely did not deserve, something I wish to carry on for my own daughter. I pray that she is never afraid to show her emotion (and with her father, I doubt that will be a problem...love you, Andy). For the tender heart that lays within her, will one day (oh, fervently I pray), beat in rapid emotion for her Heavenly Father.

I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words....

As a mother, one of my most treasured times during the day is morning nap time. Just an hour and a half after waking from her (not so uninterrupted) night's rest, Eden is ready to go back to sleep for another hour or two. With the exception of Sundays, Eden and I stay in our pajamas, and delay getting ready for the day until after she wakes from her morning nap. And while there are probably a million other things I could accomplish during this time, on most mornings, we curl up on my bed, and take that nap together. Go ahead, you can call me lazy, I don't mind.
I never really sleep during this time. Rather, I read, spend time on Facebook, twitter, etc., browse blogs and articles by other mothers, or simply just stare at my beautiful, sleeping, baby. This morning, I am blogging.
What I love most about this glorious time of rest, however, is not the long period in which Eden is actually asleep. It is, instead, those short moments just before she drifts. As her eyelids become heavier and her breathing deeper, she often takes one long, last look at her mother. Without making a noise, she studies my face, her bright, blue eyes searching mine. Her tiny hand, slowly moving, explores the features in which she sees. And it feels as if time is standing still.
This morning, during this precious moment of peace and timelessness, my eyes, locked with hers, began to tear. Never before had I so desperately desired to know another's thoughts as I did right then. Does she understand how much I truly love her? Does she know I would do anything in this world in order to protect her? Is it possible that she dreams about me, as I do her?
And all I could do was pray, "God, I have done nothing to deserve this little girl's love, but for whatever reason, you have entrusted me with her. So please give me the wisdom and ability to raise her in such a way that she will learn to love you and live for you in ways that are far beyond my comprehension. Thank you, Lord, for this completely undeserved gift."
And as she stirs, awakens, and (this time, not so quietly) looks me, once again, in the face, the words of the Elton John song that I sing to her every night pop into my head, "...yours are the sweetest eyes, I've ever seen."

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Well, on this dreary Fresno afternoon, while the babe naps naked in her crib (don't ask), I've run out of things to do. My mother and I have completed project after project over the past two plus weeks that she's been in our home. (For a more detailed, and humorous, I might add, account of our accomplishments, check out  mom's recent blog post.)

And. I. Am. Bored.

Our projects are complete. I've checked and rechecked (and yes, rechecked again) facebook, twitter, and pinterest. I've consumed my daily limit of cups of coffee (though it's pretty much guaranteed that I'll have yet another before this day actually comes to a close). I'm currently not reading a book that I'm just dying to finish. I guess I could shower.... but that might ruin the chance that I will exercise later today, and who has the time to shower twice in one day?..... Sooo I guess I could exercise.... but who really wants to do that???? I'm sure there's something I could be cleaning...... and I'll just leave it at that.

So here I am, lying in the middle of the sitting room (yes, the sitting room, we are that fancy), where, for the last thirty minutes, I have been browsing through all of our pictures that have been previously saved on our computer. And here is what I've discovered......

February 22, 2011.........

February 24, 2012...........

Amazing, isn't it?!? I think about my life just one year ago, and how much of a difference one year truly makes. Wow.

My family is leaving early in the morning, heading back to Tennessee. And I'm sad. I'm sad that the next time they see Eden, she will be a totally different little human being. Sure, we can skype, call, text, and send pictures and videos. But I know it's not the same. 

I'm so thankful that Eden has been blessed with four of the best grandparents she could ever have. And I'm thankful to her grandparents for their patience, understanding, love, and support, for allowing us to do the work that we believe God has called us to, even if it means that their first and only grandchild is 3,000 miles away. 

I'm also so incredibly thankful to the family we've been adopted into at the Woodward Park Church. Through you, Eden has an abundant amount of loving grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, and sisters. 

Though we are miles and miles away from "home," we have found yet another home, another family, in you.

The Times They Are A Changin.....

Hello blog, it's been awhile, my friend. I really have been dreading this moment, trying to reconnect with you. I think I've opened my blogger page at least fifteen different times, only to close it once again, defeated.  Creative writing has not been in the forefront of my mind as of late, rather, I've just been trying to make it from one day to the next.  Life has been pretty crazy the last few weeks, and I feel as if things are just now settling in to a slower, more comfortable flow. I say slowER and not slow because the latter just simply does not exist when you live the lives of a youth minister and his family.
Two weeks ago Andy, Eden, and I all travelled to Tennessee for the Freed-Hardeman Lectures. We spent some time in Memphis, Henderson, Acton, and Nashville. We saw many friends, family members, and fellow ministers. Our lives were greatly blessed by this cross country trip, and we are so thankful to the Woodward Park shepherds for allowing this to take place.
Immediately returning from our travels, we hopped right back in the saddle and prepared for my family to come for a three week stay. And so, more travels, more family, and more craziness has ensued. All of which I truly do love! ... so no complaints here (i promise, mom!)... just making excuses for my recent lack of interest in blogging.
I've realized that three weeks is like three months in baby years. Eden has changed significantly and has almost experienced more in the last few weeks than she has in her short little life.  She has had her first taste of solid foods (rice cereal and bananas), she had her first experience interacting with an animal (don't mistake her shocked face for dislike, she really did love your kisses, Woolum), she came down with a fourteen day stomach virus (yes, FOURTEEN DAYS, that's A LOT of diapers, my friend), she learned to roll from tummy to back and is now rolling ALL over the place (a scary thought for mama), she came down with her first cold (yay! more snot sucking!!!), she rode in her stroller facing outward (without the infant carrier), she took her first trip to San Francisco, she graduated to size 3 diapers, and she moved in to her 6 month clothing. All the while her little personality just keeps on growing and evolving. Whew. You know, all of these baby books advise you to be consistent and to keep some sort of a schedule for your infant's sake. Okay that doesn't really make much sense to me because if there's one thing I've learned is that with babies (or maybe it's just mine?) there is not much in the way of consistency. What the books SHOULD say is WARNING: you may think you know your child, but just wait a week, and he/she will be a completely different baby. Parents, you better be able to adapt well to change.
It's weird though, because even with all of the growing and all of the changes, I still feel like the baby I have today is the baby I've had all along. It's not until I see a baby younger than Eden that I realize that she was once a much smaller newborn (and that was just 5 months ago!). I desperately want to treasure each moment with Eden, to years from now remember her when she was young. But I can barely remember what it was like before she rolled over, and that was just last week! To you parents of grown children I know I must sound ridiculous. I mean, the child is only 5 months old. I know I don't really get it just yet. But it's like 5 months ago my life REALLY began, and it's been on warp speed ever since. And I'm scared. I don't want to miss a moment in this beautiful girl's life. I just want to stop time all together. Because I know that one day, she's going to be married, living across the country, with a baby of her own. And THAT is terrifying. (sorry mom).

Thank You, Steve Jobs

Facebook, Twitter, Skype, Pinterest, Instagram, YouTube. I have officially been sucked in to the vast world of social networking. Don't get me wrong, I was already sadly addicted to most of these sites anyway, but yesterday my world was flipped upside down. That's right. I got an iPhone. I have arrived. My phone is no longer just used to make calls (who actually does that anyway?). In the palm of my hand is a doorway that opens up a plethora of opportunities. As we speak, I'm typing my blog ON MY PHONE! I know, you're not impressed. I'm pretty much the last person on earth to get a smartphone, I get it.
Now as I've stated in the title of my blog, I'm just trying to live SIMPLY. Yes, you don't have to say it. I'm a hypocrite, this is probably the furthest thing from simple living. But oh well, at least I feel cool.
Aren't new toys fun? Even 4 month old babies can appreciate something as exciting as a new toy. Just the other day we bought Eden a jumper/exersaucer (sp? My iPhone doesn't recognize that word, so OBVIOUSLY it doesn't really exist. The phone knows all.) thing. And she loved it! She couldn't stop smiling. (But it's also possible she just had gas.) But how quickly do we forget about or take for granted those new toys? You know what I mean, those amazing gifts that you receive for Christmas, already lost or broken by New Years. Yup, even me, who, as of yesterday, was made hip by my new magic phone, gifted to me by my thoughtful husband, lost said phone this afternoon and spent 20 minutes looking for it. What was that? Less than 24 hours? A record, even for me.
This morning we heard an incredible sermon from our preacher, Tim, on the cruciality of sharing the gospel. It was moving, it was inspiring, it was convicting, and I was.... distracted. You see, it was my first time, as a new, nervous mom, to leave the baby in the nursery throughout worship. And I was anxious. I kept expecting to see, at any minute, a nursery attendant bolting through the double doors, holding a screaming (but still cute) Eden out at arms length, searching frantically for her mother to help in consoling the unconsolable. But alas, nothing of the sort happened. She was, of course, perfectly content to be in the arms of someone other than her mother.
I get distracted so easily, so quickly. I let insignificant obstacles get in my way, blurring my vision, pulling my focus away from what is of true importance. So often I forget, so often I take for granted my gift. THE GIFT. The amazing thing that Christ has done for me. Just as quickly as I lose my new phone, I let that excitement, that indescribable feeling that comes with receiving a new gift, wear off, and I lose my focus.
I pray that each day I am reminded of the gift Christ has given to me, when he made me a new creation, holy in his sight. I pray that I continually return to the feeling of excitement. I pray to feel anxious, not by the things that are distracting, but by the urgency and the necessity to share my gift with those who have not yet been married in to the body of Christ.

My Cup Runneth Over

My friend, my love, my stronghold, my helpmate, there is no other like you. You get me through even the longest of days, even the darkest of mornings. Whether full of joy or deep in mourning, you are what I want. You've been with me through trials and through travels. Stood by my side as I've ventured from one side of our great United States to the other. Throughout California, whether in the beautiful Northern Redwoods, or the busy streets of L.A., you are what I look for, what I long for. As I've entered in to parenthood, you have remained loyal, steadfast.  With your help, I can be the mommy that my daughter truly needs. With your help, my marriage is strong, flourishing. Your sweet aroma nurtures my soul. I can never repay you for the love you've given to me. But I will continue to love you endlessly. Whether you are hot, cold, iced, blended, dark, medium, light, sweet, stout, flavored, or bold...COFFEE, thank you, for just being you.