The Next Step

Blessings in Disguise

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 17:08:00 +0000

A clump of hair sat on his shoulder.

Several more strands littered his maroon sweatshirt. Dad's spirits were good, but the chemo sapped his strength. Walking even three steps required him to hold onto something.

I couldn't let him see the tears in my eyes, so I busied myself putting the groceries away, loading the dishwasher, cleaning up the bathroom, anything to avoid looking at him. But there was no escaping the obvious. Medicine bottles lined the counter. Pamphlets from the oncology center lay scattered on the table. The lint trap in his dryer resembled his sweatshirt.

He assured me he was okay, encouraged me to get home to my kids, which was a nice way of saying he was ready for me to leave. I stalled in the doorway and though it wasn't our habit to express our true feelings to each other, that clump of hair beckoned me to take the risk. Would there be another chance?

"Dad, we love you. We're going to be here for you. You won't go through this alone."

He didn't know what to say. We didn't talk like this.

Then I pushed myself to kiss his cheek and gave him a hug, knocking the clump to the floor. And though I cried all the way home, the pain in my heart shared space with sincere gratitude for true connection with my father, for a chance to bond like never before.

My dad's cancer--a blessing in disguise.

My mother and I followed the ambulance which carried my two-year-old son to the hospital in another town. Fear and uncertainty, along with the hormonal fluctuations and sleep deprivation of having a newborn wore me down. Tension hovered between us. For months we ignored a big elephant that needed to be addressed. I wanted to talk about it earlier, but was too chicken to bring it up. I wrote letters I never mailed, imagined big speeches while I lay awake in bed, but never mustered the courage to talk about it openly with her.

But in a quiet car, my emotional reserves completely spent worrying about my son, the conversation I'd wanted to have for months, the one I talked myself out of too many times finally took place. And though we saw the situation differently, true communication happened, relieving my anxiety over the situation.

My son's illness--a blessing in disguise.

Sickened by my own actions and hurtful words which ended a friendship, I no longer trusted myself and decided my usefulness in ministry ran its course. Ready to quit everything I was involved in, a woman who should have been hurt by my words came alongside.

"Tami, you can't quit. If you quit, you let the devil win."

Her sincere encouragement and faithful prayers held me up until I was able to stand again, forming a new relationship, an alliance necessary to continue in ministry.

A gut-wrenching low point in my life--a blessing in disguise.

Every trial carries with it an opportunity to deepen a relationship. The urgency, the stress, the pain heightens our vulnerability and breaks down our defenses, enabling us to say what we're really thinking, to act when we wouldn't otherwise. A crisis brings grief, but a blessing may be waiting in the middle of it.

What are you facing right now? Could it be the impetus to deepening a relationship? Could it be a blessing in disguise?

7 Quick Takes (Volume 57)

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

1) Planning for a hectic evening, I gave Miss Innocent One her instructions on what to do before I got home.

She took both hands, patted her fingertips to her temples and said, "Save. . .Save. . ."

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Trying to remember."

2) Our gecko saga continues. This week marked another trip to the vet who told me, "This guy must have a poor immune system. In the wild, he would have been eaten by now."

Great. To get him through the latest infection we're feeding him baby food through a syringe (yes, you read that right--baby food--chicken and gravy--yum, yum). He acts like he feels better, but I haven't seen him smile yet.

It's been too long since I used baby food. How long can you keep it in a fridge before it goes bad?

3) My writing buddy, Oscar the fly, was back this week. But this time he annoyed the snot out of me and apparently sucked the creative juices clean out of me.

4) Ladies Man is constantly on the prowl for creative project. Cardboard, tape, wood and hot glue are high commodities in our house. Now that he's getting older he asks if we have screw guns and saws and drills. I'm getting nervous.

Lately he's spent time making movie props for some movie he and his friends are planning to shoot. He cut two wooden guns, glued pieces of plastic and metal to them to make three dimensions, then painted them and you know, they look like the real deal. I wouldn't want him to get caught with them in his backpack!

His latest project, though, is one of my favorites. He and his dad spent Saturday afternoon constructing a PVC pipe trombone. Yep, a trombone made completely of PVC pipe. He uses his mouth piece from his real trombone and can actually play the thing. It has a muffled sound, but he can play any song on it. Cool beans.

5) Marriage tip #1: Say nice things about your husband to the blogging world and he will appreciate you.

6) Marriage tip #2: Leave a suggestive text message on his phone and he will REALLY appreciate you. (And come home early!)

7) Now we must erase the icky image I just created with a different one. How about one of my kids' favorite jokes?

Have you seen the movie Constipation?

It hasn't come out yet.

Don't think about that one too hard, folks. Instead, take a trek to Conversion Diary to read more wholesome Quick Takes.

To those of you in my part of the world, enjoy the fantabulous weather!

But I Love You

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 12:48:00 +0000

Nothing really weighed on my heart that afternoon, unless you count the Bible study lesson I felt inadequate to lead. I wasn't sad or afraid or worried. Just a little tired and very aware of my imperfections.

I took advantage of a quiet vehicle all to myself for half an hour to worship God, singing my favorite choruses.

"There is none like You. No one else can touch my heart like you do. I could search for all eternity long and find there is none like You."

"I worship You, Almighty God. There is none like You. I worship, O Prince of Peace. That is what I want to do. I give You praise, for You are my righteousness. I worship You, Almighty God. There is none like You."

"I love You, Lord, and I lift my voice to worship You, O my soul rejoice. Take joy, my King, in what You hear. May it be a sweet, sweet sound in Your ear."

"As the deer panteth for the water so my soul longeth after Thee. You alone are my heart's desire and I long to worship Thee. You alone are my strength, my shield. To You alone may my spirit yield. You alone are my heart's desire and I long to worship Thee."

"You are my strength when I am weak, You are the treasure that I seek. You are my all in all. Seeing You as a precious jewel, Lord to give up I'd be a fool. You are my all in all."

"Who are we, that You would be mindful of us? What do You see to keep looking our way? . . ."

Though I kept singing, my soul asked the questions over and over.

Who am I, Lord? What do You see? How can I be the right person for Your work?

In the middle of my singing, my heart was pricked with one sentence, catching my breath, bringing tears immediately.

But I LOVE you.

Me? This obsessive woman who thinks too much, feels too much, talks too much? Why? I don't know what I'm doing half the time. I just do it. I'm sure to mess up. I have before. I will again.

I felt acutely my smallness.

Suddenly I understood my Calvary, my curse, my cross.

I am human.

But I LOVE you.

And because He loves me, some day, when my life here is finished, I will be complete in Him. Until then, He will fill my holes with His spirit and use me. Isn't that the most incredible thought? He wants to use us, US, giving us a front row seat to His work?! And when an insignificant woman gets a little weary, the God of the universe, the Creator of all things, the all powerful, all knowing, eternal God who could change the whole world with a snap of His finger, takes a quiet moment to say,

But I LOVE you.

Incomprehensible, but true.

But I LOVE you.

That is all I need to trudge forward. Lead on, Lord. I will follow.

Choosing Peace

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 12:33:00 +0000

I called myself a "dateless wonder."

And though I joked about it in public, in private there were lots of tears and questions to God.

"What's wrong with me?"
"I'm a good person. Why don't guys like me?"
"Would it be so terrible to have one date?"
"Is there a problem with having a little fun?"

The only answer I got was "Trust Me." (Sound familiar?)

I didn't like it. But I decided if the man of my dreams was going to be part of my life, only God could do it. So I trusted, like a child who proclaims, "My daddy says. . ."

This conscious decision led me to say, "Thank You, Lord, for knowing what's best for me. I know You've got a plan here. I trust You, even if it means I need to stay single."

Peace of Christ guards our heart when we pray with thanksgiving. A thankful heart is a guarded heart.

Wayne Cordeiro

Expressing thankfulness in hard circumstances is the ultimate form of trust. Being thankful for the tough stuff proves we trust God to have our best interests at heart.

Being thankful and trusting in His divine plan gave me the gumption to keep going. It replaced fear with peace. It gave me the objectivity to learn while I waited, observing the relationships around me, seeing what did and didn't work. Gratitude and trust guarded my heart, turning those lonely days into a time of protection and preparation.

If you read yesterday's post, you know God answered my prayers beyond what I imagined, but if all we see is the answered prayer we miss the point.

Gratitude and trust gave me the peace I needed to get through a trying time--more than once. Gratitude and trust led me through my parents' divorce, sustained me in a painful time in a relationship, and held me up while watching my father die.

What difficult circumstance do you face? Try thanking God for His divine plan in your life, whether you understand it or not. Let gratitude and trust bring you peace.

To see more impressions of this quote, visit Karen at In Love W.I.T.H. Jesus.

For My Husband

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 06:18:00 +0000

Dear Kevin,

Every day I thank God for you, my miracle. I love you. I love our life. And while there are countless qualities I admire in you, one in particular stands out. If all men were as good at this as you, there would be lots of happy women out there.

You make me feel loved.

You accomplish this in a myriad of ways:

When we walk side by side, you grab my hand.

You listen. Without judgment. Without advice. Without fixing.

I slip back into bed for a few more minutes before the day begins and though you are not really awake, you snuggle in and mumble, "Mmmmm".

You say, "I miss you".

When you come home, you don't sit before you've found me.

You believe in me, even when I don't believe in myself.

You talk to me, sometimes longer than I have the patience or attention span for, but knowing you want to tell me shows me my importance. I am so thankful (even when it seems I'm not interested). Don't ever stop!

You notice when I'm feeling down.

You linger at the dinner table to talk after the kids have run off.

You hide your annoyance when I ask you to pick something up on your way home from work.

You slip my name into conversation as naturally as breathing.

You say "I love you," but your actions prove it.

I am loved. I am blessed. And deeply grateful. You've provided the soil for me to bloom. Your love gives me confidence and courage, sanctuary and security. I pray our sons follow your lead and love their wives as well as you do. Thank you so much.

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth--for your love is more delightful than wine.

Song of Songs 1:2

I love you, Kevin. Deeply. Wholly. Always.

If you like reading love letters, you can find more at Chrysalis. Or better yet, write your own.

7 Quick Takes (Volume 56)

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 10:16:00 +0000

1) Ready for more sparkling dinner conversation from the Boesiger house?

Ladies Man and Miss Innocent One started speaking with a strange accent.

Dad: Don't start that again.

(Apparently I missed something the night before.)

Ladies Man: What?

Dad: I don't need to hear anymore of that.

Ladies Man: (pulling back the outside corners of his eyes) I'm Chinese.

Drama Queen: Don't be racist.

Ladies Man: I like pandas and ping pong.

Drama Queen: That's terrible.

Dad: Yeah, you shouldn't say that.

Ladies Man: But I really DO like pandas and ping pong.

Drama Queen: You think they're over there holding their eyes OPEN saying, "I like cheeseburgers and movies"?

Good one, babe.

2) I overheard a conversation between two men, one hired to help the other reach a goal.

"You have to do everything I say, I mean everything. If I say it, you do it. Period," the first man said.

"Oh, that's easy," replied the other, "That's what I always do at home."

I know he was joking (although nobody laughed), but it made me sad, partly because he felt he had no say in his own home and partly because he didn't seem to care.

3) Wow, a woman makes a harmless comment about her hair and gets lambasted.

Drama Queen: Mom, you aren't picking gray hairs anymore, are you?

Me: Well. . .just a few by my face.

Drama Queen: MOM! Stop it! Grays hairs are a crown of splendor! Gray hairs are a crown of splendor! Stop it!

Isn't it bad enough I beat myself up about my inadequacies in countless areas? Now I have feel to guilty about my grooming too?

4) I was listening to K-LOVE when the announcer posed a question to entice audience participation.

"Should Christians celebrate Halloween?"

And I groaned. Now why would they want to open up a can of worms like that? I know good, Godly people who DO celebrate Halloween and good, Godly people who DON'T. What good does it do to stir the pot? Is one side really going to convince the other? Is there any way to escape hurt feelings? What is the point? Aren't they just rousing division? Can there be thoughtful discussion on such a hot topic?

5) We came home to find Ladies Man using a new language.

Ladies Man: Helloeth, Mometh and Dadeth.

We knew better than to ask. You wait long enough and the explanation will pop out.

Ladies Man: How waseth your nighteth?

Us: Fine. . .

Ladies Man: I speaketh King Jameseth.

Oh.

Greateth.

6) I've been having strange dreams this week. One night I dreamed Drummer Boy had a gambling problem and lied to us when we confronted him. I woke up in a panic thinking he was a delinquent which is really not true, but you know how dreams seem so real. It took a good half hour for me to calm down, but there was no sleeping after that.

Then I dreamed I took Miss Innocent One to an amusement park in Colorado. For some reason I had to leave early. It may have been something to do with my cell phone I threw to avoid ruining it when we plunged into a pool of water at the end of a ride. It was bad enough I left her at the park by herself, but I came back to Nebraska before I realized it was a bad idea. What kind of a monster mother is that, leaving an eleven year old in a different state at an amusement park without a way to get home?! When I woke, my heart was beating something awful and my stomach churned. It was such a relief discovering it was only a dream.

Of course, if you know me, you know I wonder what these dreams mean. Do I have deep-seated fears I am a bad mother? (Or am I a bad mom?) What do you think? (Brenda--feel free to analyze, babe.)

7) How 'bout we end today with a good word?

But you, dear friends, build yourselves up in your most holy faith and pray in the Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in God's love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life. Be merciful to those who doubt; snatch others from the fire and save them; to others show mercy, mixed with fear--hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh.
To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy--to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen!

Jude 20-25

Check out what other people have to say at Conversion Diary and read more Quick Takes.

Have a great weekend, friends!

The Continual Learning Curve of Trust

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 12:51:00 +0000

I wasn't prepared to have a kid grow up.

I thought I was. I thought it would be nice to have less daily responsibility and let him take care of his own needs, freeing me up. I knew he had a good head on his shoulders and chose his path wisely. I could see God captured his heart before he left, instilling in me confidence he would seek God's guidance.

But no one told me when he left our home worry would replace his presence.

I worry about him getting signed up for the right classes, getting good grades, succeeding in his job, staying healthy. I worry about whether he's made his car payment or eaten today or washed his sheets in the last month. I worry about his future and how he'll support a family. I worry about job opportunities in his chosen field.

I worry too much.

And it's wrong. God doesn't want us to waste our days worrying. He promises us peace.

Peace I leave with you;
My peace I give to you;
not as the world gives do I give to you.
Do not let your heart be troubled,
nor let it be fearful.”

John 14:27 NASB

How do we get this peace? How can I not be troubled? Jesus told us earlier in this same passage.

Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.

John 14:1

In essence He says, "Hey, stop worrying, just trust me already, 'kay?" Why is trust so important?

This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says:
"In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it. Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him!

Isaiah 30:15, 18

Did you catch that? In quietness and trust is your STRENGTH! The Lord LONGS to be gracious to you. Blessed are all who wait for Him!

These are nice words, but so much easier said than done. How can trust help me not worry? Wait, I got a verse for that too!

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7

Here's how I practice trusting God. When I start to worry, I pray, making my requests, and then trust Him by assuming He's got it handled. Now don't think this is easy. Sometimes I'm doing this over and over in a short time span, but when I truly trust God, I can move on with peace knowing God's going to take care of my son. He loves him way more than I do.

Have you tried conquering your worry with trust? What do you need to practice leaving in His hands? Do not be worried. Do not be fearful. Trust and He will give you peace.

Visit our host, Patricia at Typing One-Handed for more ideas about this quote.

Have a good day, my friends!

Wanting More for Desperate Housewives

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 14:19:00 +0000

Those Desperate Housewives sucked me in last night.

The opening discourse about judging sparked my curiosity. Where were they going with this? Each character received scrutiny from an outside source, making them feel uncomfortable and question themselves. Two story lines in particular caught my attention.

Bree is having an affair with Susan's ex-husband. She meets him regularly at a hotel for their rendezvous without a trace of remorse until the maid at the hotel shoots her a disgusted look when she realizes Bree is married. Bree doesn't like her judgment and strikes up conversations with the maid throughout the week, wanting to make it clear she has no business judging her actions. When the maid doesn't give her any slack, going so far as to remind her she could read the Bible in the top drawer of the nightstand while she waits for her lover, Bree decides the maid must have been hurt by a cheating husband and confronts her in her condescending Bree way.

The maid leaves quietly, then storms back in the room, surprising Bree by telling her SHE was the one who cheated, losing her husband, her boyfriend and her life for a momentary thrill. Bree tries to save face by saying that will never happen to her, but the maid appeals to her morality.

"Don't you feel guilty?" she says.

A tender conversation ensues where Bree admits her guilt and the maid tries to convince her to stop the affair to gain her self-respect and save her marriage.

"Don't you want to feel you deserve more than this again?" (Or something to that effect.)

Oooh. Good stuff. I was delighted to see someone on television actually talk about long term consequences of adultery. Bree contemplates the maid's words for the rest of the episode.

Then we bop over to Tom and Lynette who were having some work done around their house. The handyman kept deferring to Tom for the final decision on any project, irritating Lynette. When she asks him about it, the handyman tells her he thinks a man should have respect and since she doesn't give it to Tom, he will. He tells Lynette, "You can crush your husband's walnuts, but I won't."

(I hope I haven't offended anyone's delicate sensibilities.)

Immediately my husband and I raised our eyebrows at each other. Could Hollywood really be tackling the respect/submission issue? Cool.

But just when it was getting good, Tom has a chat with the handyman, telling him of Lynette's troubled childhood with a dad who was absent and an alcoholic mother. He says Lynette coped by controlling her environment as much as she could. He says she NEEDS to control people to make her feel safe.

"As her husband, it's my job to make her feel safe, so I let her control me," Tom says.

"You're a good man, Scavo," the handyman replies.

Oh brother. Now it's loving to be a wimpy husband? What a cop out. Bleh.

To make matters worse, they knocked our legs out from under us in the final scene, showing Bree sitting on the bed in the hotel room, staring at the Bible in the nightstand. We got all excited for her to make the right choice, when she slammed the drawer shut and rushed into the arms of her lover.

Poop.

I suppose I totally missed the point of the episode. I'm judging now, huh? But why does a show with such thoughtful, well-written story lines have to end in debauchery every single week? It's so disappointing.

And disconcerting. How many young people are buying into this representation of how marriage should be? How many couples will find out after it's too late that God did not intend for relationships to function like this? What damage does it cause?

Sigh.

No wonder these housewives are desperate.

7 Quick Takes (Volume 55)

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 05:00:00 +0000

1) We were discussing over dinner a piece we saw on t.v. about foods which cause bloating and gas. Actually, my husband and I were complaining about how there's nothing a person can eat anymore without causing some malady.

Miss Innocent One surprised us with her take on the matter, saying,"Does anyone really care if they have gas anyway?"

Apparently not in our house. You may want to think twice about coming over.

2) What do you do when something's eating at you? Do you clam up, hit the gym hard, cry, scream, what? Apparently I'm a bad actress because people can usually tell when something weighs on my mind.

"What's the matter? You're so quiet."

I try to buck up and deal with it myself for a while, but eventually I break and talk and talk and talk, ad nauseam, completely exposing my irrational and self-centered self, until I get sick of hearing my own words.

Needless to say, I have very patient friends. Thanks, guys, for knowing me and loving me anyway! You da best.

3) I thought I may have to swallow my critical words about H1N1 this week when 15% of the student body in our school district was ill. I don't know if the bout was actually H1N1, but whatever it was hit Miss Innocent One for a few days. She seems to be on the mend now.

Ladies Man had fun with it at the middle school. For once he didn't catch it which is a true miracle in itself. This kid gets EVERYTHING!. He uses up his allotted sick days and then some nearly every year. To celebrate his health, he started fist pumping kids in the hall at school saying, "Hey, congratulations! You survived the plague!"

I thought it a cute gesture until I considered how many germy fists he probably touched. I hope his words don't come back to haunt him (and ME!).

4) Pray for me and Drama Queen today. We're going formal dress shopping. She shops like her mother who fingers things on the rack and finds reasons why they probably won't work without ever trying them on. Last year we went to 15 stores, 15!!!, before we found a dress and that was only with the help of her friends who insisted she put some things on.

I should make a public confession right now. I am a sub-par woman. I hate shopping. (GASP!) It stems from nightmare shopping trips as an overweight child when nothing fit right and my skinny sister came away with bags of cute loot.

As an adult all I see is dollar signs which spin my head into calculation mode, giving me a headache and sucking the fun right out of it.

Shopping. Ick. Pray for me. And Drama Queen. She inherited the shopping-stinks gene too.

5) Drummer Boy got a job this week as the drum line instructor for our high school. He's super stoked and so are we. NICE!

Drama Queen/Drummer Girl isn't sure what to think about it. Now her brother is her instructor. She thinks he'll be a great leader, but worries how this may affect their relationship.

"I s'pose he'll have to be all professional now and won't be able to talk about people like we used to," she said.

To which I responded, "That's okay. You probably shouldn't have been talking about them in the first place."

She answered me with an eye roll, a grunt and a, "You don't understand. . ."

Yeah, yeah. You said that already, like 1000 times! Anyway, congratulations, Drummer Boy! We're proud of you. Going for title #6. . .and go get 'em, Drama Queen. Girl Power!

6) Miss Innocent One reminded me how the family you're raised in influences your view on the world. Sitting at a community theater production last weekend, she leaned over and asked, "Which one wrote this play?" How many 11 year olds stop in the middle of a performance to think about that? It made me smile.

7) One of the best things I ever did was import this blog into my Facebook notes. People who wouldn't have found it otherwise have started following it there. When I think about who might be reading these words I get excited, scared and humbled all at the same time. A high school classmate put my heart at ease this week with her sweet note of appreciation. It did my heart good and made it feel worth the risk.

So here's to all my Facebook friends. Your comments and "likes" never go unnoticed. You spur me on. (Is that another way of saying you're responsible for this train wreck?)

I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a weekend. To add to your jollies wander over to Conversion Diary and read more Quick Takes. Enjoy!

Murky Waters

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 09:23:00 +0000

“If a sudden jar can cause me to speak an impatient, unloving word, then I know nothing of Calvary’s love, for a cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, however suddenly jolted.”

by Amy Carmichael

Because of some nasty interchanges in the films we watched during childbirth classes, my husband prepared himself to hear some awful things come out of my mouth when the blessed event came.

But I'm happy to say I did okay. I didn't scream at him or blame him or call him any bad names. Delivering four different times, the worst thing coming out of my mouth was, "Let's get this sucker out of here" referring to the darling cherub stuck in the birth canal.

So why can I hold it together in the most unlikely of times (without any epidurals, mind you) and yet blow it in the minor things? Why can I grip my husband's hand sweetly (although FIRMLY) in childbirth, yet let an obscenity slip when I can't get the stupid mower started? Why can I listen quietly when the doctor says stage 4 cancer, but scream at my kids when they're being too loud? How can I keep my cool in a fender bender, yet slam the dishwasher door shut when I bang my shin on it?

What is the matter with me?

Please tell me I'm not alone.

What does this say about my spiritual condition? Do I not understand God's love? Am I full of "bitter water?"

That's a little hard to swallow. God has brought me a long way in handling my sinful nature. Just ask my sister who I used to beat on a regular basis. She's a full grown functioning adult now. Thanks be to God who helped me get my temper under control so she could live. There must be another explanation.

How about. . .I'm human? Is it possible to only spill "sweet" water, when we reside in an imperfect vessel?

Occasionally I'll get bumped and some bad comes out. It's my old self rearing its ugly head. I'm working on it and God's going gangbusters on it, but these things take time, LIFEtimes. Instead of bemoaning my bad reactions in the little stuff I need to think of them as practice to learn how to handle the big stuff. Dealing with every day annoyances develops muscles for the real crises. They remind me I can do nothing without Christ. They make me very aware of my need for a Savior.

I'll keep plugging away. One thing is sure--God will bring the opportunities! Some positive reactions in tough times is a good sign He's transforming me, isn't it?

May He continue to work in us to "will and to act according to his good purpose."

Soli Deo Gloria--To God be the Glory.

Read other impressions of this quote and say hello to one of my favorite bloggers, a woman "across the pond" as they say in her neck of the woods, at Miriam Pauline's Monologue.

Two Magic Words

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 10:18:00 +0000

Would you believe me if I told you two words could transform your relationships? Do you think it's possible for two words to melt the hardest of hearts and mend hurt feelings? Can two words really be the start to healing wounds from the past?

I think so. I know two words which pack a big punch and aren't too hard to say. What are they? What two words, when used sincerely and consistently (this is key!) can guarantee relational success?

Thank you.

Thank you builds others up and shows love. Aside from making them feel appreciated and noticed, thank you communicates important messages.

Thank you says I needed you.
I've been helping my sister edit essays for graduate school applications. She's more than capable of doing it herself, but she asks for my help and thanks me over and over. I like it. Her gratefulness makes me feel necessary. We all want to feel needed and think we've offered something no one else can. Saying thank you gives that boost.

Thank you says I recognize your sacrifice.
One of the advantages to having teens is having an extra driver in the family. If my driving son or daughter runs an errand for me or picks up a sibling I make sure to thank them and they are always game to do it again. I've never had to haggle with them about it. When I express my gratitude they know I understand it puts a crinkle in their plans. Because I recognize their sacrifice, they're willing to give it.

Thank you says I like what you did (insinuating I wouldn't mind if you did it again).
After an especially busy day last week, I finally had a moment to sit at my computer around 10:00 that night. Though my husband would rather watch television at the end of a day, he left it off, knowing my idea of relaxing is a quiet house. You better believe I thanked him for the peace! I want to encourage this behavior for the future!

Thank you.

They are not empty words. Try using it this week and see how it improves your relationships.

7 Quick Takes (Volume 54)--One More Time

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 11:25:00 +0000

1) Ladies Man is starting to look more grown up. He finally surpassed me in height. Last Sunday he came down for church wearing a shirt he got out of Drummer Boy's closet (which actually belongs to my husband) making him look instantly older. He wore a new pair of jeans too which did something for his stature I couldn't put my finger on. When I mentioned it, he said, "Yeah, they're sexy."

Just what a mother wants to hear.

2) Do remember the huge compliment Drama Queen gave me last week about my butt? My weekend proved to be even better when my husband said a few days later, "Your butt looks good in those jeans." And they were different jeans! BONUS! I can't think of a time in our entire married life that he's ever said ANYTHING about my butt. I've always figured he subscribed to "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." I'm not letting it go to my head, though, I mean, I've been fully acquainted with my rear my whole life and know what it looks like, but it was nice to dream for a week, you know?

Oh, and another message to my IRL (in real life) friends: fair is fair. I'm checking you out! HA!

3) Does a person ever feel like they've arrived or reached the spot in life they're working towards? I've been asking God again this week, "What are we doing, God? Where am I supposed to go? What should I concentrate on? Am I on track or am I missing something?" I have purpose and plenty to do, but sometimes it would be nice to get a glimpse of the actual map.

4) Kevin and I inadvertently re-enacted the early years of our relationship and stayed up talking until 2:AM. On a Monday night. What were we thinking?! I've been paying for it ever since. Is there something wrong with us when even living in the same house doesn't provide enough time to communicate? I'm thinking we'll make good use of our empty nest years. Despite my prolonged grogginess this week, I'm thankful we still have so much to talk about. He's a keeper. Love you, babe!

5) If you remember my recent confession about being addicted to flossing, you'll completely understand why it drives me crazy when my kids forget to brush their teeth. When I noticed Ladies Man's teeth were less than clean, I appealed to his delicate sensibility.

"Girls are going to be turned off by gunky teeth, you know," I jabbed.

"Mom, girls are already on me," he replied.

Oh, stupid me. Lest you think him completely cocky, I did catch him peeking in the visor mirror and getting in a little finger brushing action. Don't think your kids don't hear you.

6) Is this H1N1 panic getting to anyone else? Yesterday on Good Morning America they did a story on a woman who contracted the virus while pregnant and suffered all kinds of life-threatening complications. While I understand we should be cautious, I hate how the media is stirring up the paranoia by presenting all the worst case scenarios. For every one horror story there are probably 25 others who simply got over it. Doctors aren't even testing for it to save their patients money, since the treatment doesn't vary if it's H1N1 or some other strain of flu. Are the reported numbers truly accurate?

Our school system sent out letters this fall stating if your child has flu-like symptoms, you are to report them absent with the flu whether they've been diagnosed or not. Something about that just doesn't sit right with me.

Personally I'm leery of using a vaccine that has been developed so quickly. It seems more like a get rich quick scheme for the pharmaceutical companies. I'm all for being careful and washing your hands and trying to avoid contracting the flu, but this business of scaring the public with questionable statistics stinks.

7) We've got another full weekend which is fun for me, but not my house. One of these days we'll be home long enough to really clean the whole thing. My second floor is YIKES! Sigh. There's never a shortage of things to do, is there?

Is anyone else hearing the sound of surf in the background? I'm not crazy about beer, but those Corona commercials on the beach get me every time. How can I reproduce that for an October afternoon in Nebraska?! Maybe I should build a fire and lay on a blanket in front of it.

Take some time to decompress and wander over to Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes. Have a terrific weekend, friends.

Getting the Wrong Impression

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 03:35:00 +0000

The guy creeped me out. He was a new employee at the Y, a small guy with beady eyes and scraggly beard wearing a baseball cap. His clothes hung loosely on his thin body. Dark holes occupied spaces meant for teeth. He took his breaks outside, grabbing a quick smoke. Everything about him led me to believe he lived a rough life. I could easily imagine him on a street corner with a cardboard sign or in an alley passed out drunk.

I felt a little sorry for him at first, assuming addictions had gotten the best of him, stealing the good out of his life. But then it seemed like he lingered at whatever machine I happened to be using. When I was on the bike, he plugged into the outlet directly behind me. If I was on the sit up bench, he was vacuuming in front of it. When I was doing leg curls, he washed the windows behind me.

What really did me in was that he never said anything, not one word. He was just always there. Hovering. Those beady eyes looking my direction, making me uneasy without a "Good morning" or "Hi" or anything.

I did my best to ignore him, but after a few weeks he braved a sort of communication with me. He'd huff and wipe his brow as I sweat away on the elliptical machine. One day he noticed I'd taken off my glasses and wiggled his own, pointing at me.

I was polite, always responding, but didn't risk actually talking to the man. I didn't want to encourage anything. I did what I came to do, let him do his job, and kept an eye on where he was, making sure we were never in the room alone.

Then one day as I pedaled away, my attention was drawn to a woman's voice near me. She was talking with him, or rather, she was talking and asking him questions, and he was making motions she tried to interpret. And suddenly I felt like the biggest loser.

DUH! The man was deaf!

What was the matter with me? Why did I find him creepy and assume the worst about a guy I knew nothing about just because he didn't interact in a normal way? Why did I see only his outside, not the real person beneath the tough exterior?

How many times have I done this before, gotten a wrong impression of someone? This man's weakness is visible (Why did it take me so long to see it?), but most of us have hidden issues causing us to act a certain way. How many people have I dismissed without knowing what's really causing their behavior, without seeing the real person?

How many times have I unfairly judged and gotten the wrong impression?

The guy at the Y doesn't creep me out anymore. Now we wave hello and good bye. He'll motivate me to keep going, pumping his arms, when I look like I'm pooping out. Once I even tried out a remnant of sign language I remembered from twenty years ago when I had a deaf student. I told him "thank you" as he held the door for me. The only other sign I remember is "rest room" and I'm afraid if I did that to him he'd find ME creepy.

I pray God gives me His eyes to see people how He does. I pray He helps me look past the outside and see the person within. And I thank Him for the daily reminder in the Y guy not to jump to conclusions.

Movie Moments

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 11:41:00 +0000

On my way to rehearsal it started snowing, a light snow that twinkled in the air. And all I could think about was how romantic it would be to dance in the snow with my husband. He thought it best not to ignore our assembled cast and chorus. I get it, but wouldn't it have been fun to take the whole group outside for five minutes and revel in life for a while? Isn't that something you've seen in a movie somewhere?

But it doesn't seem like life accommodates movie moments, does it?

I dream all day of dozing on the couch in the evening, tangled in my husband's arms, only to have kids who need help with homework and a husband glued to his laptop working on orchestrations.

I look forward to our traditional movie marathon on New Year's Eve, our entire family hunkered down for a whole day of movies and junk food and jammies and then our kids get better offers.

I imagine meaningful gatherings, but find when we're together I don't know what to say to spark the conversation. Neither do they and we spend our time watching the kids banter back and forth, hardly connecting at all ourselves.

I want his eyes to pop out when I walk into the room and hear a little growl as he saunters up to me. Instead, he makes a beeline to ask me if I have any mints.

Truth be told (and I feel like I should whisper here), I wouldn't even mind steaming up the car windows some time just to make people wonder!

I know. I know. Life doesn't work that way. I'm learning. I realize movie moments can't be planned. They're there, but they come when we least expect it and only when we're living in the here and now, not wishing for something beyond our reality. If I'm too busy pining away for something magical to happen, I might miss what is right before me.

Like the way Miss Innocent One has a trademark way of saying good night or good bye. She always gives the final peck on my cheek, often followed by an "I love you, Mom" and a look of adoration that never fails to melt my heart. Beautiful.

Or the wonderful summer evening a friend and I spent outside, a gentle breeze blowing around us, enjoying cheesecake and coffee and an intimate conversation which soothed my soul and boosted my spirit. Total movie moment.

And a time I'll never forget, where the words coming out of an actor's mouth, words I had written myself, sparked me to ask God one more time why He answered no to my earnest prayers. Right there in the middle of a performance, He explained it to me. Completely overwhelming and awe inspiring.

And just this week, the day after I'd spent one in bed sick, my husband and I sat at an ATM machine while I fished in my purse for our card. When I handed it to him, he was staring at me smiling.

"You look really nice," he said, "I was worried about you yesterday." Then he leaned in for a tender kiss.

Can you hear the soundtrack?! It makes me sigh just thinking about it.

I wonder. How many of these moments have I missed because I'm wishing for something different? How many times have my imaginations clouded the vision of today?

Lord, open my eyes to the beauty all around me, the magic You have placed in my life. Help me hear the score of Your music in my every day, resisting the temptation to plan my movie moments. Help me recognize the surprise and wonder in my ordinary.

. . .I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

John 10:10

7 Quick Takes (Volume 54)

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 10:57:00 +0000

1) As is my custom while standing before my mirror, I was plucking the most annoying of my gray hairs when Drama Queen walked in.

Drama Queen: Mom! Don't do that!

Me: I'm just getting the really wingy ones.

Drama Queen: Don't pull those out. Gray hair is a crown of splendor. It says so in the Bible.

Me: Yeah. I'll remind you of that when you have gray hairs.

Drama Queen: I'll show you.

She ran down the hall to fetch her Bible and came back.

Drama Queen: Yep. I was right. Here it is in Proverbs 16:31. "Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life."

What I haven't figured out yet is if she was trying to compliment me on my righteous life or making sure I knew she was right. I'll go with the righteous life bit.

2) We obtained my great grandmother's pump organ last weekend (Thank you, Aunt Lori and Uncle Dave!). My kids were playing on it and a strange thought occurred to me.

Me: Do you realize your great-great grandmother's fingers touched those very same keys?!

Miss Innocent One: It's like we're shaking her hand.

Never one to miss an opportunity for a good lick, Ladies Man had to comment.

Ladies Man: Yeah, we're shaking hands with the dead!

3) I attended the funeral of a family friend on Wednesday. I am always saddened at funerals by how inadequate they are. Trying to sum up an entire life in a few short moments doesn't ever do the deceased justice. I understand the importance of providing a time of closure, but there must be a better way to honor a life.

Since losing my dad four years ago, funerals remind me of how much I stand to lose, WHO I am bound to lose. The thought hurts my heart. Sitting next to my mother during the service (who is the same age as the deceased) reminded me she won't always be here. I don't even want to think about it.

The pastor said, "Grief is the price of love." I guess if I grieve much it means I have loved much which is a little comfort. I pray God will be near when I face loss again.

4) We've been doctoring the gecko again. Ladies Man was beside himself when he was convinced the lizard had lost an eye which is impossible, of course. I mean, how could an eyeball just fall out? But there was no consoling him until we peeled away all the excess skin he hadn't shed himself and the little guy opened his lid a slit.

Ladies Man: Oh. . .oh there it is. See it? It's in there.

Big surprise.

Ladies Man: He must have some shed caught in there that's bothering it.

Yeah, I think I suggested that already.

Really, would it be so terrible for my children to admit I know what I'm talking about? Would it have been so hard for Ladies Man to say, "Yep, that eyeball's in there. You were right, Mom."?

But that's just crazy talk, isn't it? Imagine, a mother who knows something?

5) It's been an affirming week for me with Drama Queen. Not only has she declared my gray hairs a splendor, but one evening as I was finishing dinner, she was sitting on the kitchen counter and said out of nowhere, "You have a good butt."

Now you must know no one, and I mean NO ONE, has ever told me I have a good butt. For my entire life I've considered it my worst feature, my very worst. An impromptu drug test on the poor girl crossed my mind, but then she jumped off the counter and said, "My butt is flat. Yours has something to it."

I guess when a sixteen-year-old says you have a good butt, you should probably run with it and not think about it too much. To be honest, it did make me feel better about my ginormous behind, so I'll say thank you, Drama Queen. You made my week.

(A message to my IRL friends: Don't you DARE start checking out my butt and make me ultra paranoid!)

6) After too many days in a row of running around constantly from the time my feet hit the floor til my head hit the pillow at night, I FINALLY had a WHOLE DAY home alone yesterday. I was in heaven, I tell you! I wish I could say I accomplished tons, but alas, I'm a woman who knows how to make the most of a lazy, hazy day. (This would be a good place to insert a deep breath and heavy sigh.)

7) It sounds like the weather in my neck of the woods could get a little chilly, maybe even bringing some snow! This is good news to my ears as the white stuff is one of my favorite things (wait, should I rephrase that?). We may have to build a fire and get cozy tonight.

I hope you can take it easy too. Jen's taking a week off at Conversion Diary, so you're stuck with only my Quick Takes this week. Have a great weekend anyway.

Be Ye Different

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 11:17:00 +0000

“Christians make a difference in this world by being different from this world;
they don’t make a difference by being the same.”

from Unfashionable by Tullian Tchividjian

The Bible says, "He had not beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him." Jesus was a carpenter like his father. For thirty years he lived a life much like his peers, so much so that when his time came to declare who he really was, people scoffed.

Compare it to the annoying little boy on your bus telling you he's going to be President someday. Uh huh. Hard to imagine.

So it isn't surprising Christians often get "you think you're better than me" from others or "oh sure, Miss Holier than Thou" or "goody two shoes." But this isn't how we're to be different in our world. While we are to be holy as He is holy, I don't think the light we're supposed to project is a beacon of righteousness, beckoning all to follow the rules.

Jesus stood out to others and drew people in because of His love.

As a follower of Christ, I should stand out for MY love, not for my ability to keep commandments or memorize scripture. I should be more concerned about being different in the way I love others and my God, than using church lingo or maintaining my "witness." It's easy to dismiss someone who talks or walks different, but unusual love cannot be ignored.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

1 Corinthians 13:1-3

Let us be different in our love, friends.

For more interpretations of this quote, visit Debbie at Heart Choices.

Extreme Makeover: How God Renewed Our Marriage

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 10:49:00 +0000

Between the fussy baby and the other kids waking up to the fussy baby, I'd gotten little sleep. My husband, oblivious to the rocky night, got up, took a shower and after filling me in on his busy plans taking him away from us for the majority of the day, shut the door and went on to live a real life, with people and respect and a sense of accomplishment.

And I changed a poopy diaper, swept Cheerios off the kitchen floor and prayed I could make it until nap time.

The years when our kids were little were some of the toughest on our marriage. I resented how HIS life went on while mine got lost in the mundane, in laundry and sticky fingers and constant needs of little ones. He got tired of my whiny attitude sighing, "I'll be here."

Though I loved my husband, and knew he loved me, we grew distant. My life was inside the house. His was out.

I thought I was doing him a favor by handling the household things myself, but found it made me more and more annoyed with him. I could use his help, but had trouble asking for it. I thought if I couldn't even do the mother thing without assistance I was failing the only job I had. Plus he was so busy, I didn't want to bog him down with my petty little problems I could take care of myself if I got off my pity pot. But in not communicating any of this, the resentment built up. When I tried to handle it all myself, he thought I didn't need any help and went about his own business further aggravating me and driving a bigger wedge between us.

I had to admit my need. Out loud. To him. It was tough. I wanted him to instinctively know. I thought if he loved me, he would take the time to see what was bothering me. Shouldn't he sense my troubled spirit? Shouldn't he be able to see what was all around him?

But he didn't. He trusted my judgment and my ability to take care of things and assumed I was fine with it because I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING.

The best and most productive thing for our marriage, both then and now, is me communicating my need, not blaming or criticizing, but admitting I am bothered, no matter how irrational or trivial it seems. It is so hard for me. No one likes to admit they have need. But how is he to know if I don't tell him? He wants to make me happy, but how can he do so if he doesn't know what's really on my mind?

It is critical for both of us to swallow our pride--me in acknowledging I need him, him in listening without taking it personally. The benefit to our marriage? I feel understood. He feels needed. I feel loved and taken care of. I don't stew on things for months (and am probably an easier person to live with). He gets to feel like Superman when he responds to my problems.

When our kids were little it meant he made arrangements for one of our mothers to watch the them while we got out for a night. He encouraged me to do things with friends. He started asking for MY help in things for his job at church and we put a foot in each other's worlds. Thank God for a husband who may not always like what he hears, but always listens and finds a way to respond.

As crazy as it sounds, me opening my mouth improved our marriage significantly. It's still difficult for me to voice my concerns and aggravations, but now I have motivation. I know a good marriage will not happen otherwise.

Talk to your men, ladies! Don't accuse or blame, just tell them how you feel. See how God can use your humility to grow your bond.

To read more extreme marriage makeover stories, visit e-Mom at Chrysalis.

7 Quick Takes (Volume 53)

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 12:42:00 +0000

1) I feel like I need to start off today with a disclaimer. This week has been especially busy, making me one tired chicky, so today's quick takes may lack its usual wit and sparkling commentary (are you rolling your eyes yet?).

There. You've been warned.

2) Miss Innocent One has the gift of gab. She inherited it from her father. This girl can take a simple sentence like, "Mary got sick at school today," and turn it into a twenty minute play by play account of what led up to the sickness and everyone's reaction along the way (hey, maybe she's destined to be a writer!).

So you'll forgive me, or at least understand, if I tell you I'm not always on the edge of my seat as she tells her stories. God must be trying to tell me something, though, because lately she's calling me on my poor listening skills.

In the middle of her discourse on what happened at school that day I thought she referred to the wart on the bottom of her foot.

"I need to put more of that stuff on it," she said.

"It hasn't been two weeks," I reminded her. The freezing medicine I bought had specific instructions full of warnings to follow the directions to the letter. "Is it flaking away at all yet?"

"No." She gave me a puzzled look. "Well, I put some more on it today, but next time I want to use the stick stuff."

Immediately I cued in better. The medicine is not to touch any flesh other than the wart or it can damage the tissue. I thought I made it clear she needed me to do it for her.

"You put it on yourself?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"How did you do that? You have to use the stick thing."

Now she was confused. "I just rubbed it on."

"Honey, you can't do that. Didn't it hurt your finger? I told you I needed to help you with that."

"What?! You gave it to me and said I could use it."

"On your wart?"

"Mom, I'm talking about the stuff for the cork on my saxophone."

Oops. Maybe I need to start paying more attention.

3) Disappointment set in when I discovered how our Toy Named Earl got its name. Apparently, it was a bag from Earl May.

Somehow that sucks the fun right out of that story.

4) I was working on my computer and a fly joined me, walking all over my screen. Does it make me strange if it made me smile, like I had a little friend along for the journey? Oscar (all friends need names, right?) rubbed his little hands together as if to spur me on saying, "Okay, Tami. Let's be brilliant." Who knew flies could be so inspiring?

See. I told you I was a tired girl this week.

5) I went to bed last night to find all of my kids, who'd been sent to bed earlier, in Drama Queen's bedroom whispering. When they heard footsteps on the stairs they quickly dispersed to make it look like they were all still in the process of getting there. Miss Innocent One, not used to making up excuses was left to face the music with me.

"Why are you guys up talking? You're supposed to be in bed."

She flashed me her sweetest smile and shrugged. "We're just saying stuff."

Aah, well that makes it all better, doesn't it? Oh brother. I gotta say it's hard to get mad at them when they were actually enjoying each other, but why does their camaraderie usually involve a plot against the parents?

6) We've been resisting the urge to turn our heater on all week. The temperature is cool in the mornings, but very comfortable by 4 or 5 in the afternoon. Since I'm the only one home until then, it hardly seems worth it to fire up the beast downstairs to heat the house for little old me. The trouble is our house is shielded by big, old, beautiful trees, so we don't get much sunlight in to warm the house during the day, which is great in the summer, but on a cool fall morning, not so hot (literally). I've been FREEZING all week. One night I slept in long pants, t-shirt, hooded sweatshirt (with the hood UP!), fuzzy slipper socks and piles of blankets on top. I'm not sure my husband could have found me if he wanted to. It would have been a process of peeling off layers saying, "Tami, are you in there?" I thoroughly enjoyed feeling all hunkered down like I was in a cave and finally WARM, but the looks of my family the next morning suggested they thought my ensemble less than sane.

7) This weekend starts the high school marching band competition season. We'll go watch Drama Queen/Drummer GIRL do her thing for the next few Saturdays. Her band teacher told us last night at parent teacher conferences, "She's pretty high strung.," which of course we were fully aware of, but I know it's her determined, whip it into shape attitude that's taken her from oboe player to center stick snare in two years time. She's a kick, our Drama Queen. She can do anything she sets her mind to. Personally, I wish I had more of her fiery spirit and determination. Go get 'em, babe! You are terrific!

I better move along to the next thing. Enjoy your weekend, friends. You can find more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

A Toy Named Earl

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 11:23:00 +0000

They walked in the back door laughing, my thirteen year old who will be taller than me by the end of the school year and his little sister who's gaining on me every day.

Ladies Man: What did you do with it?

Miss Innocent One: It's got a huge whole in the side.

All kinds of laughter and chattering erupted.

Me: What's so funny?

Miss Innocent One: We found this toy outside a few days ago and decided to name it Earl. We've been having lots of fun with it, doing all kinds of tricks with it. But it's getting kind of worn out.

Me: Earl? What kind of toy is Earl?

Miss Innocent One: Oh, it's just a plastic bag we found blowing down the street.

A plastic bag named Earl.

Keep in mind these kids are 13 and 11. Who says this generation screams for high-tech entertainment? Playing with a plastic bag for a few days is just about as old-fashioned as playing with a stick, isn't it?

Unfortunately, about the time I was aware of Earl, he met his demise. Ladies Man took the matter into his own hands.

Miss Innocent One: What did you do with Earl?

Ladies Man: I put him in a happy place.

Miss Innocent One: Where?

Ladies Man: In the trash.

May Earl rest in peace. Next time you go to Walmart, tell his cousins hello.

7 Quick Takes (Volume 52)

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 09:33:00 +0000

1) Wow! A whole year of Quick Takes. Can you believe it? Let me sound like a complete old person and say, "Where does the time go?"

2) "Hey, Mom," Ladies Man said, "I learned how to edit profile pics on Facebook. I could take the gray out of your hair if you want."

Ouch.

And if it wasn't bad enough, he couldn't leave it alone. The next day I heard, "So, Mom, do you want me to take the gray out of your profile pic?"

When I just stared at him, he added, "but I don't really see any right now. . ."

Yeah. Good save.

3) GREAT news, people! My husband conceded in the Facebook war! I win!

Can I get a whoop, whoop?!

Of course, Drama Queen put a new crick in my neck suggesting I can't beat her. She had the audacity to patronize me while I was buying her a new cell phone (does she not understand who has the power in said situation?).

"You need to realize that half of your friends are really MY friends," she said with tone.

"No way," I reacted, "you don't even know most of my Facebook friends."

"Well, at least a fourth of them are really my friends that added you. You'll never catch up to me."

I played it cool. You would have been proud.

"Yeah, just you wait," I told her, "I'm like the turtle who kept at it, little by little, while the cocky bunny played around and talked big until the turtle squashed him."

She snickered and gave me a look which said, "Oh, you poor delusional woman."

But I'll get the last laugh. Mark my words, bunny girl!

4) I made an exciting purchase this week--a teeny purple mouse for my laptop. It's stinkin' cute with its retractable cord and sleek design. Purple always makes me happy, but when I can combine it with my laptop, another of my favorite things, I am plain giddy. Yeah, I'm a simple gal. It doesn't take much.

5) My husband and I rode in the van and I reviewed part of my to do list out loud.

"I really need to wax my moustache," I said, "I really need a haircut. I really need to do my toenails."

Kevin said nothing. He's a very smart man.

I turned to him and said, "I guess there's grooming in store for my future."

He burst into laughter.

"What?" I didn't get the joke, but laughed along, mostly because he was having such a good time.

"How come the funny things you say never end up on your blog?" he asked.

Here you go, honey. Your wish has been granted. I hope everyone finds it as funny as you did.

6) Power play number 5,871 between Dad and Drama Queen:

Dad: Go get that right now.

Drama Queen: You're such a Nazi.

Dad: Do it or you're not going to the game.

Drama Queen: You're greatly abusing your power as my father.

Dad: I think I'm going to throw up.

So who won?

7) Lest you think we're a bunch of warring barbarians, let's leave on a sweet note today. Last Sunday Drama Queen and some of her friends did a little photo shoot for fun and posted the pictures on Facebook. Drummer Boy noticed and commented on photo of Drama Queen all by herself.

"My sister is pretty! :)"

Yep, go ahead and say it. Aaah!

Have a great weekend, friends. Find more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Giving Your Heart Away

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 15:05:00 +0000

I've had lots of good friends over the years.

And I've LOST lots of good friends over the years.

People I love are taken away for jobs or love or personal pursuits. Circumstances change. Misunderstandings and hurt feelings alter relationships. People come and go into our lives and personally, it's always rough on my heart.

In today's transient world, giving our hearts to others feels like too much to ask, so many of us don't. It's tempting to protect ourselves by guarding our emotions and not letting many people in. We're merely defending our sensitive hearts. If we're vulnerable, we're bound to get hurt. It's likely, of course and probably prudent to distance ourselves to prevent it, except for one thing.

We NEED other people. Something within us craves to be known. We desire others to come to us, to wonder what we think, to be interested in our lives. When we guard our hearts, protecting our real thoughts and feelings, saying what we should instead of what we really think, we don't give any indication of who we are or what is unique about us. We don't encourage inquiry.

And we suffer for it. We're left feeling very alone. We may be protecting ourselves from future hurt, but mostly we're depriving ourselves of present joy.

My life is richer because I've risked the pain, because I've let people in, shared personally and allowed myself to care. Yes, it has and will cause heartache, but I think it's worth it. As Tennyson said, "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

Do you have trouble giving your heart away?

Photo Credit: bored-now

A Tricky Temptation

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 11:09:00 +0000

“We deny Jesus every time we disregard His truth and put ourselves down. That hurts us. We deny Him every time we fail to see our value in Him. That hurts us. We deny Him every time we continue to hang on to our self-condemning thoughts and lies. That hurts us too. And then, it’s as if Jesus turns and looks straight at us with His eyes of love and compassion, and something dawns on us. We have, in a sense, denied our Lord Jesus, and I wonder if that hurts Him.”

by Marilyn Hontz
Shame Lifter

Ow. Ow. Ow.

I'm guilty, VERY guilty, I-have-no-business-writing-this-post guilty.

But I know I'm not alone. Show me any woman and I'll show you someone who struggles with self-image. The problem is not in understanding we are uniquely made in God's image, but in believing it.

My head knows I am "fearfully and wonderfully made," but my mirror reveals dark circles under my wrinkled eyes. My thighs still dimple after countless hours on elliptical machines, exercise bikes, crosstrainers, miles around the track and hundreds of pounds lifted faithfully. My spirit cringes every time I say something stupid. I am smack dab in the middle of my failures every stinkin' moment. I know who I am.

I'm not trying to deny Jesus or tell Him He did a bad job on me.

Or am I?

Oh boy, we've got to stop, ladies. Our self-centered attitudes are hampering His work. What's a woman who loves her God and desperately wants to please Him to do? It's as easy as ABC.

Allow and delight in the gifts of others.
As much as I would like to, I will never be a professional dancer, but I can take pleasure in watching the grace in others. Instead of envying her beautiful skin, I should enjoy the view. Her insightful comments should bring a smile to my face.

Believe the Truth.
I AM fearfully and wonderfully made. He has given me special skills and talents. HE enables me. He is the reason I can do or be anything. I am everything in Him.

Change my focus.
Where am I looking? Am I concentrating on myself or a perfect God who lives in me?

Deny the lies.
Do dark circles and wrinkles, dimpled thighs or mistakes make me unusable or unworthy? Perhaps He shines brighter because of my weaknesses. His glory is clearly seen through our inadequacies.

Eliminate wandering eyes.
God's wasn't looking around when He made me. It isn't fair to myself or others when I try to compare results of His work.

I know this is tough, friends. Believe me, I know (you IRL friends are fully aware of my struggles)! But if we don't work on it, how are we failing God?

Lord, we are guilty. I am guilty. Forgive us. Show us clearly who we are in You. Enable our hearts and minds to believe it. Give us the proper perspective. And use us as You see fit. May we be faithful.

Join our host, Loni, at Writing Canvas for more In "Other" Words.

What if we Believe Them?

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 11:25:00 +0000

I tell her she's beautiful and she laughs with a "Yeah, right."

After I express my respect and admiration, she quietly responds, "That's kind of you to say."

When I greet her with a "How's this classy lady today?" she giggles nervously and shakes her head.

I point out her good qualities and hear, "I don't know why you say that."

Before any of you start waving madly and shouting at me, I know, I know. I'm guilty too.

When compliments come my way, I want to believe them, I really do, but often shrug them off, thinking others are only being nice. Or I think them blissfully ignorant to the real me. If only they knew, they'd change their tune.

But what if I believed it?

Is there any danger in accepting a compliment at face value? How would our lives be different if we truly believed the nice things people say about us?

Would we stand taller, live better, relish more? Would we be happier? Worry less? Would our interactions with others be more meaningful? Would we represent our Creator better? Would we be more effective?

Why the struggle? What is Satan trying to squelch?

The king is enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your lord.

Psalm 45:11

Believe it.

And see how your light can shine.

7 Quick Takes (Volume 51)

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 05:00:00 +0000

1) "I think I finally found my funk to studying," Ladies Man announced.

To him "funk" was a good thing. He found his groove. It only took 8 years, but at least he got there. The answer? Making his own flash cards with index cards to review terms.

Now, since he's found his funk, can I get out of mine?

2) It's time for the Facebook war report. As of this moment, I am in the lead by 10 friends. TEN! Yee Haw! I was feeling content, thinking I was pulling away from him, knowing just a little more would make him concede, and then Drama Queen had to pipe up.

"I'm WAY ahead of you both," she said, with a little patronizing grin.

"Oooh, well whoop de do," I bristled, "Now that I'm beating him, maybe I should come after you next."

"There's NO WAY you'll get ahead of me," she said.

You know what has to happen now, right?

This is for all you mothers out there dying to put a smug little girl in her place. Game ON!

3) I heard on K-Love that the No. 1 baby boy name in London is now Mohammed, providing evidence of the rise in the Muslim population. The name was two times as popular as the No. 2 name, Daniel. I'm not sure what, if any, other conclusions should be drawn from this or what it means, but it certainly is interesting. It got a "hmm" out of me.

4) I enjoyed a wonderful, LONG phone conversation with my college roommate this week. She called because she'd been going through old stuff and found a letter I'd written her in 1998 when I was pregnant with my youngest child. She said it reminded her of things I'd been talking about on this blog lately.

As she read a portion of the letter where I described my anxiety about having enough money to raise four children and how it meant I needed to rely even more on God's faithfulness and provision, I got a little choked up. Eleven years later I have seen His hand clearly on our family. He HAS provided. He has done what I couldn't see possible and I STILL worry about how we'll get them through college and into their adult years. Have I learned nothing?!

Oh Lord, I need Your forgiveness for my lack of faith. You have always been the Master of the Impossible for us. Why do I worry about anything?

5) Drummer Boy is FINALLY coming home for a weekend. He hasn't been here since he moved to college over a month ago. While I've been stressing and moping and sad, he's been in plenty of transition himself. Take a peek at it on his blog, The Drummer Diaries. God is at work in him. I'm so proud of his attitude and so thankful, so very, very thankful (Like I said, why do I worry about anything?!).

6) Ten minutes after I dropped Miss Innocent One off with detailed instructions on what would be taking place in her little world, she called my cell phone.

"Mom, I was trying to remember what you said, but I thought I better make sure."

I went through the litany again.

"Sorry, I got to thinking, now what and I couldn't remember . . ."

And she was off, telling me every tiny thing that went through her head, leaving me to wonder if she recalled yet what I actually told her instead of what her thought process was.

"Do you got it now?" I asked.

"Okay, yeah, well I just couldn't remember, so I thought I better call."

"Yeah, you said that already."

"Well, I wanted to make sure. . ." Yet another explanation came forth.

I couldn't help it. I started laughing. She does this. She can look right at you, nod, agree, say okay and still doesn't remember specifics, yet her explanation of WHY she doesn't goes on forever.

"Why are you laughing?" she asked mid sentence.

"Nothing, it's just funny," I said.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Well, I thought I better call."

"I know, " I said, smiling, "Good idea. You got it now?"

"Yeah, I wanted to make sure."

"Okay. See ya later."

"Okay. I love you."

I love you too, babe, quirks and all.

7) Since I've talked about everyone else in my family, it seems only right to mention my dear husband. His birthday is Monday. Though he thinks he's getting old, I think he's getting better and better. I won't let you be a fuddy duddy, babe!

He's not perfect (for one thing, he's got the most frustrating wife!), but I sure do love him. So very much.

I watched an interview with Patrick Swayze and his wife before his death and Barbara Walters asked her, "Have you come to terms with the possibility of life without him?" She had a hard time answering the question, and as I thought about my own response, I had to leave the room. The thought of living without Kevin. . .well, let's just say I'm trusting God for more than providing for my kids.

Happy Birthday, honey. I would not be who I am today without your consistent, patient, faithful love. I adore you.

Have a splendid weekend, my friends. Catch more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Do My Expectations of Myself Give the Wrong Message?

tamiboesiger@windstream.net (Tami Boesiger) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

For as long as I can remember, truly, since I was a kid, I've struggled with my weight. I've prayed for God to make it a non-issue over and over and over, but He doesn't. I guess it's my "thorn in the flesh," my eternal weakness God doesn't take away so I am forced to rely on Him.

Okay.

Yeah, I say that now. Believe me, I've had plenty of temper tantrums about it. I wish I could say I've quit obsessing about it, but I'd be lying. I'm working on not, or rather, God's working on me. Today He brought me a new reason to get over it already.

If I obsess about it publicly, even if it's only with my closest friends, do I project my expectations of myself onto them? If I expect myself to look a certain way, will my friends think they should too? If I cannot be happy with myself, will they start to believe they must be a certain way to gain my love and acceptance?

Even worse, what do I say to my daughters?

Do I inadvertently place expectations on my loved ones when I put them on myself? I don't want that. I don't want to place ANY expectations on those I love. I want them to feel valued and important no matter what. I want them to know I'm in their corner at all times, that they are deeply loved , that they are safe and esteemed, no matter what their circumstances.

But if I don't give myself the same courtesy, why should they expect me to give it to them?