Simply Complicated.

A Moment Of Silence

2013-09-11T12:49:00.000-04:00

"A moment of silence is the expression for a period of silent contemplation, prayer, reflection, or meditation."

Today we, as a country, are observing 6 moments of silence. One Moment of prayer, reflection and contemplation for each of the following moments that seemed to last a lifetime 12 short years ago:

At 8:45 a.m. The first plane crashed into the North World Trade Center Tower.

At 9:03 a.m. The second plane crashed into the South World Trade Center Tower.

At 9:37 a.m. Flight 77 struck the Pentagon.

At 9:59 a.m. The South Tower fell.

At 10:03 a.m. Flight 93 crashed into a field in Pennsylvania

At 10:28 a.m. The North Tower 29 fell.

As each of these moments passed on that September morning our hearts broke a little more, our fears flared up in our chests and our worlds were forever changed.

I woke up groggily Sept. 11, 2001 to a phone that seemed to be ringing incessantly. I had stayed up late the night before watching Thirteen Days and all I wanted to do is sleep. After a couple more rings, I finally gave in to the ringing and answered the phone. It is my roommates' older sister, who had been helping us try to resolve an issue with our phone number. There is nothing worse than getting a former Papa Johns' phone number as your new home number. If we had been willing to make and deliver pizza we could have made a small fortune. I quickly, with hopes of crawling back in bed, told her, 'We have resolved the issue and all is well with the phone.' When she calmly but firmly responded, 'Emily I don't give a damn about your phone turn on the TV and where is my sister?' This woke me up, her tone scared me. I tell her K

has left for class and I turn on the TV, just in time to see those iconic towers bleeding black smoke, raging flames and helpless souls. Terror washed over me, I have no clue what to do. I call my fiancee, "Where are you?" "Have you Heard?" Then the second wave of fear hits me like a truck. My parents and brother are staying at the Westin in downtown Atlanta, one of the tallest buildings in Atlanta. I call, call again and again again and nothing. The phones are not working. I can't get through to the hotel or to their cell phones. I walk outside to get some air because the TV and sounds of the news have filled the empty apartment with tension so thick I can't breathe. I walk out the door and the first thing I notice, through the tears of frustration and fear, is the beautiful sky. The sky was as blue and clear as any day I had ever seen. At that moment, I was in awe and complete fear of those blue skies. I walk back in just in time to watch the first tower collapse. In that moment I was screaming at the TV because the News Anchor was noting that something was happening but he wasn't willing to say it. I screamed, "IT IS FALLING YOU IDIOT, it is falling, Oh God, all of those people!" In that moment I couldn't fathom why he didn't say, 'the South Tower is falling.' In this moment, I have the clarity to realize, he didn't want to say anything which he wasn't absolutely sure of, especially something as horrifying as watching a Tower full of people collapse. He wanted to be certain but I think he also

wanted to believe this moment is not occurring. Then we watched in unbelief as the moment that brought us to our knees happened again.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. A blur of trying to figure out Where to be, Do I go to class? No one is there. What to do, Do I donate blood? Everyone is in a line, quietly sobbing. What do I think, Dear God Why? "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

My parents finally called, they were safe and on their way home. My friends and I gathered around the TV, in silence until we could watch no more. We left the television but the silence remained, while we ate and tried to process the horrors.

What is a Moment of Silence? This morning 12 years later it is a series of short breaks in the noise that has returned to our lives. 12 years ago A Moment was a lifetime. Silence was the loss of innocence, the breaking of hearts and awakening of a generation.

i. will. never. forget.

EmJ

35

2013-08-31T10:41:00.000-04:00

35. WOW 35 years old. I will be 35 years old in 5 days. Oh dear... I am not sure how I feel about this birthday. Let me start with I am not going to shed a tear over turning 35. I am alive, I have an amazing husband who loves me and makes me laugh everyday, two wonderful boys who are thriving, and friends who surround me with love and support. I am in a good place, I have NO DOUBT.

Having said that... 35... sigh...

Maybe 35 is hitting me a little harder than all the previous 30-something birthdays because I am currently recovering from a broken hip, an injury that is typically reserved for people twice my age. Maybe it is hanging heavy over my heart because I am feeling an overwhelming desire to do things differently. MAYBE it is just the normal mid-decade, HOLY CRAP, I am now in my mid/upper 30's reaction.

I am guessing it is a little bit of all of the above.

My first 5k, 2011.

Let's start with the hip, my stupid, stupid hip. For the last two years I have slowly and methodically became a runner. In this process I have also became very passionate about fighting through the 'I can't's', 'It hurts', & 'you aren't fast enough's' to improve myself. Running has been a love/hate relationship unlike anything I have ever experienced. I love how it makes me fight against myself, to prove to myself, I am stronger than I could ever imagine. I hate how weak I feel in the process. I hate how I became so obsessed with going longer and faster, I stopped listening to my body. May 4th was my last 10k, actually it was my last run period. The week leading up to the race I knew something wasn't right...after the race I knew something was wrong. Three weeks and a lot of pain later I am sitting in front of the Orthopedic. Doctor listening to him explain that I am a mature athlete, I am not Kenyan and I should have listened to my body. Jump, or hobble in my case, three weeks and many medical tests forward it is determined that I have a compression fracture of my femoral neck. I ran myself straight into a broken hip. The words mature athlete ringing in my 34 3/4 year old ears, I am told my running, my passion, is done for the foreseeable future... This did draw many, many tears and much frustration. I am NOT THAT OLD WHY DID THIS HAPPEN TO ME!!!! Which brings me to my next point, my desire to do things differently.

My last 10k/Race..

Why did this happen to me? Well, because I can be stubborn and stupid. I knew something wasn't right, I knew I was pushing too hard and I didn't stop. I made the conscience decision to continue on a path that lead me to this, it didn't happen to me, I caused it.

So, doing things differently, what do I mean by that?

I want to use my past experiences to do things better in the future. I have learned SOOO much in my 34.99 years, why don't I use this knowledge to make my life easier? My body tells me when to stop, my heart tells me when to go and mind is constantly aware of decisions that will make my life easier. My goal with 35 is to pay attention, and act accordingly.

As for the the-mid decade, HOLY CRAP, I am now in my mid/upper 30's reaction, I guess I am just going to have to work through this reaction over the next 5 days. My heart is telling me that I am on the right path, my mind, although swirling with ideas for improvement is still learning and my body is healing.
I could not ask for more.

-EmJ

“There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.”

― Sophia Loren

My twenties...

Run for your life.

2013-04-27T15:08:00.003-04:00

Running...

When do we run?

What causes us to increase our gait from a leisurely stroll to a breathtaking pace?

Fear.
When you are 8 and you have to go to the basement to get something. I remember slinking slowly down the stairs so the devil waiting for me would not immediately notice my presence. Then after retrieving whatever was required, I would bolt up the stairs, three and four steps at a time, because the monster was now keenly aware of my presence and was racing after me as fast as its ten legs could carry it.

Joy.
Sitting on the plane dealing with the normal insanity of exiting the plane. You know the people that have decided just because we are safely on the ground means nothing. They must get their bags and get off it immediately to avoid the plane crashing into the luggage truck. I calmly wait for them to flee. I retrieve my items and walk the gangway to find my family and head home. I cross the threshold then the joy of seeing my boys, all three of them, overwhelms me and I can't get to them fast enough. I run to them and hold them as if they may disappear.

Excitement.
We get in the car and drive 20 hours, actually 20 minutes, to the lake. The boys asking are we there yet, are we there yet, ARE WE THERE YET??? We turn down the short gravel road and they yell STOP!! We stop the car, they jump out and run down the drive, into the house, out the back door, fishing gear in hand and to the dock they race.

Emotions carry us sometimes. They can cause our hearts to race and our feet to move as if they are directly connected to the pace of our hearts. What if there is no driving emotion? What makes people want to step out of the house and just run? Nothing chasing, nothing driving, no obvious reward?

I now know.

Roots and Wings 2011

I started running about 3 years ago. It started as a means to a smaller end, rear-end to be exact. I didn't really like it but it seemed to be the best and cheapest way to accomplish the goal of shedding the baby weight. So I ran. In the beginning a mile felt like 10 and appeared impossible. Then the first mile became the hurdle, the second mile I found my pace and three seemed like a stretch but what the heck.
In July 2011 I ran my first 5k race, 3.1 miles, and the .1 was the hardest part of the race. I crossed the finish line and my first thought was NOT I did it or That was awesome. Nothing even remotely that inspirational. My first thought was, 'Oh God, when I puke on the finish line it is going to be really embarrassing.' Then the realization, 'I did it... I Did it and I DID IT IN A RESPECTABLE AMOUNT OF TIME!! I still may vomit....'
Now two years later I have completed my first 10k running at roughly a 10 minute mile, not setting any records or winning any races, but WOW 6.2 miles. What makes you run when emotion isn't pushing you? Emotion that is pulling you. I know, it sounds weird but this time the emotion is almost the reward rather than the catalyst. It hurts, you have to push yourself constantly and NO ONE will say wow you only ran 4 miles... I am really disappointed that you didn't finish the race. The only person that will be disappointed is me. Just like I am the only one who knows how amazing it feels to fight through the desire to quit, push myself through the pain and cross that finish line. I did it, I FREAKING DID IT!!

CRBR 2013

Running is a metaphor for life. It isn't easy and sometimes we want to quit, but to run through the pain, the thoughts of I can't do it, I don't want to do it or I have gone further than most and cross the finish line strong is an indescribable feeling that most people will never understand. Marriage, parenting and friendships are the races that we run in this life and the more you put in the more you get out of them. We can't sit on the couch for months and then run a marathon just like we can't stand on the sidelines of our relationships and hope they finish strong. We have to train, fight through the struggles, and get past our own thoughts of, 'I can't do it' or 'I don't want to do it' and we will cross the finish line of life and be able to say, "I DID IT! I didn't give up and WOW what an amazing run!"

What makes me run? The finish line.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, ²fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. ³Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Hebrews 12:1-3

SAY WHAT?

2013-01-19T11:23:00.002-05:00

"What we've got here is failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach..."

-Cool Hand Luke

I live with three men...

So we, at times, have a failure to communicate. There are attempts at communication, we grunt, we vocalize each and every thought with sarcastic excellence, we look at each other with eyes so wide that eyeballs could hit the floor. Yet, still a failure to communicate.
How do I improve my family's ability to communicate WITHOUT yelling so loud I am communicating with the neighbors?
Well...
I think I will start with an equation I often quote to my children..."God gave you two ears and one mouth, so you need to listen twice as much as you talk." I am not very good at walking the walk on this one. Those who know me, know I am a bit of a controller. I prefer controller, over control freak...it just sounds better. So the idea of letting one of my guys, particularly the smaller ones, take the time to finish a thought before I address the issue and move on just seems like an inefficient use of precious time.
Hmmm... maybe step two is slowing down.
If my time is so precious I feel I have to rush through conversations with my children and husband in order to move on to something else, maybe we don't have a failure to communicate maybe I have a scheduling issue. I think this relates back to to the controller mind set. It is just easier to do everything myself, so just shut up, move and let me do it. EEK, that sounds awful...awfully accurate....
Oy... So, some of the failure in communication seems to be related to my need to control the situation and move on to the next task. However, the main issue I see in our small but mighty family has yet to come to light.
TONE... OH the TONE!
If you have watched even one minute of The Voice on NBC you have probably heard the phrase, "It was a bit pitchy" or in layman's terms it was off key or out of tune. If we were a family singing group I think we would be termed pitchy. I know we would definitely be pitchy in song because I can't carry a tune in a bucket, but more importantly we tend to be pitchy in how we communicate with each other.
For example, when EJ looks me dead in the eye, in all of his 45lb glory, and throws a 200lb attitude at me you have to wonder where he learned such a talent. Or when LJ, who is old enough to know better, tells SJ to, "Go Get Me XYZ" without so much as please or a glance in his father's general direction, I have to wonder if we, the leaders of this household, are leading by example? As adults, outside the home, SJ and I have to communicate with prospects, clients and the general public in a non-pitchy, over-explanatory manner which can not be rushed because clarity is crucial. What happens to this talent when we walk in the door at home? Do we turn into grunting, bossy balls of attitude that demand understanding without explanation? Well, apparently yes, YES we do... and this is obvious by how our children communicate with us. OOPS!

So where do we go from here? Well, that is the fun thing... ANYWHERE WE WANT TO! We are a family of smart alecks who tend to be hurried and pitchy but we love each other and we are learning to communicate S-L-O-W-L-Y but surely. We have nowhere to go but up. We can learn from the knowledge that none of us like to be bossed around, yelled at or grunted at and most importantly our TONE sets the tone of the communication. If I want my children to calmly and clearly communicate their needs and wants with me then I must do the same with them. When I master this ability, they will too. So if there is a failure to communicate maybe I don't need to look at what is being said but rather HOW it is being said!

EmJ

You better Run...

2012-11-17T11:20:00.000-05:00

I have an issue.
How after a close to a year of working perfectly does a medication just stop? How can something formulated to do the same task day in, day out just wake up one morning and say, "Today I am done."
GRRRRR.....
10 months, TEN FREAKING MONTHS of consistent behavior came to a screeching halt in August. At first we thought we were imagining it, SJ and I would just look at each other with the look of 'did you see/hear that?' Next the looks turned to, 'Oh my god where did that come from?' Then came the screaming and gnashing of teeth.... And then slowly we began to realize, "OH Hell, here we go again."

It started small, a back talk here, an impulsive reaction there, an inability to stop talking in school. Then it progressed to SJ and I trailing him everywhere he went to make sure that he was behaving appropriately. The calls to his new teacher increased and new plans were formulated, none of which seemed to help. Sentences were written, and written and written again.

I will be respectful.
I will not talk in class.
I will keep my hands to myself and be kind to my friends.
I will be obedient and respectful to my parents and teachers.
I will be respectful.
I will not talk in class.

I will keep my hands to myself and be kind to my friends.

I will be obedient and respectful to my parents and teachers.

I will be respectful.

I will not talk in class.

I will keep my hands to myself and be kind to my friends.

I will be obedient and respectful to my parents and teachers.

Some nights 50+ sentences did nothing to change the struggles occurring day in and day out...NOTHING (those of with children ask them to write 50 sentences and see what happens) Tears, screams and frustration occurred but in the end we were all just tired, tear streaked, and frustrated. Only to repeat the exhausting process again the next day.

One night I was particularly exhausted and crying to a friend when she said, "Emily do you think he can control it? I mean if I told Ladybug she would be writing 50 sentences if she got in trouble, she would be an angel. They are 8, 50 sentences is the equivalent of a life sentence."

I called the doctor the next day....

It amazed me that in ten short months I fell right back into the helpless routine. 'I can't fix it.. We are doing the same thing we have been doing and it isn't working...'

DUH... Then make a change.

How quickly we forget the struggles of the past when things are going well...Thanks friend for pointing out the obvious when I was so oblivious.

So here we go again.

Medication adjustments, controlled environments and constantly trying to figure out what will work best. No Television Monday through Friday, LOTS of exercise and coping skills for all.

ADHD sucks... but it will not define my son, We will redefine it and by God (literally) we will not only survive it we will thrive throughout it.

I saw this image on Facebook the other day and I love the message. It gives a new spin to the old saying:

'That which doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.'

This will not kill us. We will be stronger. ADHD better run.

EmJ

You are unlimited....

2012-10-25T10:35:00.000-04:00

You are unlimited…

As I stare sleepily at my steeping cup of caffeine-free tea that will eventually be sweetened with sugar-free nectar I wonder about the note that dangles from the edge of the cup. This little dangling note is telling me that I am Unlimited and given the circumstances in which I am reading the sweet little note I start to doubt its validity….

At first glance, I am pretty sure I am limited in many, many ways. Some things I limit because I want to better myself and couple of examples would be:

I limit my caffeine intake so I don’t behave like a twitchy squirrel.

I limit my fat intake so I don’t look like a line-backer.

I limit the speed that I drive so I don’t end up in jail.

Given the ability to avoid the negative consequences listed I would drive like an overly caffeinated squirrel whose tail was on fire. I recognize my weaknesses…

However, in other ways I feel that I am limited not by my will to avoid negative consequences but rather just limited by age and responsibility. As a mother of two school age boys who have homework and are involved in sports my time is limited. As an adult who has more on her plate than she cares to admit I feel my mental capacity is limited. And of course as a 30 something my physical capacity is being limited by a grumpy body that seems to both crave exercise and loath it at the same time.
So, does the dangler just not refer to me or is it referring to my laundry… because that is definitely unlimited as is my dust and my dishes… Those areas are truly limitless in my life!

No, no the people at the Yogi Tea Company are not trying to taunt me; I must need to think outside the "box", or in this case the "tea bag".
Maybe the reason this little note was put on this bag of stress-relief Lavender tea was because I need to be reminded that in FACT I am Unlimited. Yes, yes the people at the Yogi Tea Co are pretty smart. They had to know if I am buying stress relief tea then there is a good chance that I am probably stressed and feeling limited in my office or in my dusty house or confined and somewhat threatened by the mountainous piles laundry or in my case, all of the above.

The busyness that comes with my day-to-day life tends to make me forget I AM UNLIMITED. As a mother, wife, friend, co-worker etc, etc. I need to be reminded that my day-to-day life does not have to define or confine me, rather I can define my day-to-day life by remembering who I am and not being consumed with the busyness.

I have an UNLIMITED ability to love, dream, grow, and continue to be anything that my heart desires. I only become limited when I start to focus on my limitations. So today, Thanks to a beautiful little note, I will focus on the things that give me energy. I will focus on the positive things which make me smile; my heart sing and my mind explode with the UNLIMITED potential of this day!

EmJ

Fred...

2012-09-14T21:06:00.000-04:00

The LORD is my shepherd,
I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
He restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.

Psalm 23

I am so troubled lately. I am saddened by the pain I see all around me and I am defeated by the fact I can do nothing to ease the fracturing hearts I see in my world. I know the older I get the more reality I am exposed to because I'm no longer the one being protected, but now, I am the protector. The last few months have been a crash course in this role and I'm truly saddened by the way my heart is coping. In an effort to protect myself and be able to support those in need, I fear I have become callous. This callousness is not physical, nor do I feel that it is reflected in how I function around people but, rather the callous has built up on my heart and dulls the aching. I am certain that without the callous, let's call it Fred, I would have crumbled to bits weeks ago. So, Fred has his place. The part I am struggling with is, I don't like not being able to experience each and every emotion that comes with each and every situation. Fred has made it nearly impossible to cry in situations that would normally make me weep. It has steeled/stilled me against the heart-wrenching thoughts that pour into my psyche and has made me feel almost mechanical in dealing with things that are incredibly painful and require emotion.

This sucks.

I am an emotional person. I am not afraid of crying, nor am I afraid of dealing with the possibilities that this life brings BUT I don't like the numbness that I currently feel.

Perhaps I need to be grateful, God has given me this protection and have Faith that this is what I need so I can be the influence he desires. If this is the case then I pray, in earnest, that God's grace will be sufficient to cover me. He know I have never been good at accepting what I did not want.

The Plans of my Lord and Savior are Mighty and WAY out of my league, so who am I to question what I don't understand.

I just pray for the ability to be what he wants me to be, not what I want to be, for each of those beautiful, wonderful people who are coping with their new realities.

One thing I have asked from the Lord, that I shall seek:

That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,

To behold the beauty of the LordAnd to meditate in His temple.

For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle;

In the secret place of His tent He will hide me;

He will lift me up on a rock.

And now my head will be lifted up above my enemies around me,

And I will offer in His tent sacrifices with shouts of joy;

I will sing, yes, I will sing praises to the Lord.

Psalm 27:4-6

EmJ

What Simple looks like....

2012-09-13T12:37:00.000-04:00

This is a follow-up on my previous post and my goal of simplifying life. Here are a few steps that I have taken to reach this goal....

Step 1:

We started a minor construction project that moved us out of our bedroom and reduced our living space by a half bath and 350 square feet.

Step 2: We adopted a new pet, Marty the box turtle. We have no clue how to care for him or her, so my time spent on google is greatly increased to prevent a new addition to the 'pet cemetery' in the back yard.

(The current tenants of the cemetery are two fish, three frogs, 1 crawdad, 3 lizards and a salamander.)

Step 3:

We started soccer for LJ & EJ which consumes 3 nights a week and a couple of hours on Saturday.

SO...PROJECT SIMPLIFY isn't really off to a great start but I am pretty sure if my life was simple I would be bored.

EmJ

Guilty as Charged

2012-08-25T08:52:00.000-04:00

I confess...
I am guilty as charged...
I knew there was nothing wrong with my tires...
The truth is, Sir, I really hate putting air in my tires. In reality, I didn't want to pay $1 for the privilege of wrestling a nasty hose which is ALWAYS beside an overflowing trash can. I get my pants and hands dirty, then I usually injure myself in some incredibly minor, yet unbelievably annoying way. Only to drive 20 miles down the road and have the low tire pressure light come on AGAIN. I will be happy to pay you for the inconvenience...
Please forgive me...

How my kids see me...

This is what was running through my head as I sat clean, comfortable and non-injured in my truck. While I was sitting there feeling guilty for feinting ignorance on the issue, a very nice man at my Shell Quick Lube was going from tire to tire making sure this ridiculously easy task was handled properly. I just KNEW, at any minute, this extremely nice gentleman was probably going to call me out for being a prima donna and wasting his time.
Then it happened... He came to my window and said, "Everything looks fine. You had one tire a little low but the temperature was probably exaggerating the issue. Have a wonderful Day!!" "Great" I say, "How much do I owe you? Nothing, Are you sure?" Oh..Okay...!"
The guilt was unbearable...
Not only did he handle this job I hate, but he smiled throughout the process and wouldn't even take a dollar for the air and even turned down a tip...
Luckily, before the guilt got too out of hand and I went back and confessed my sin to him, I had a moment of clarity. These moments are rare, so I try to pay attention when they occur...
'I NEED TO STOP FEELING GUILTY FOR EVERYTHING! That nice gentleman was doing his job just like he does every time I pull in to get my oil changed. Heck, as much time as I spend in there he probably recognized the sound of my low pressure tires as they squealed into the parking lot!'

AMEN!

Of course this moment of clarity sent my over-active, under performing mind off on a tangent.
"WHY DO I FEEL LIKE I HAVE TO DO IT ALL BY MYSELF?"
Why does asking for help or for someone else to handle something make me feel, at minimum guilty and at worst like a failure?
Where in the world did this idea come from???
I am certain that no one has 'put this evil on me' so where did it come from?? I certainly didn't feel this way when I was younger. Heck when I was a teenager I took pride in getting things done for me and when I was in college I called the maintenance man at our apartment complex to change a light bulb!! So why, at this point in my life, when getting up at 5am and not sitting down until after 10pm doesn't get the tasks at hand accomplished, do I feel guilty for asking for help?
Insanity is the only answer that makes sense....

SO, my goals for the next month are the following:

ASK FOR HELP! No matter how small the task...AKA- Air in the tires...
TRUST OTHERS! Just because they don't do it my way, doesn't mean it is the wrong way.
SIMPLIFY! It is okay to eat out after 3 hours of soccer practice.
SAY NO! Don't volunteer for anything else for at least four weeks.
FOCUS INWARD. My family deserves my attention and it is okay to refuse to work with people that cause me to lose focus on what is important.
ME TIME. I need this...my family NEEDS me to have this time, Heck I am pretty sure the world NEEDS me to have this time!!

So there, the task is presented and I will be reporting back on how it goes.

EmJ

Can I ask you a question?

2012-07-21T13:37:00.004-04:00

Over the last few weeks I have been asking ALOT of questions. For example, Why if the kitchen sink gets a terminal clog, will the back bathroom toilet blow a pump, while the front bathroom sink blows a water line? I didn't realize plumbing was similar to wild dogs and babies....if one goes wild the whole pack goes crazy...
OR
Why does our cat HOWL at 3am? And when I say howl I mean he acts as if he has his tail is permanently lodged under a self-rocking rocking chair! Is 3am the kitty witching hour? If so, how do I de-witch this hour without tossing the cat out the backdoor like a stinky bag of trash. If we don't get this cat fixed soon I may toss him out the back door and firmly hang on to the two round objects that seem to be causing the issue....
AND WHY, OH WHY, does it go for weeks without a drop of rain and then rain for days on end? My children need at least a few hours at the pool or outside to prevent my hair from spontaneously falling out! Their cabin fever doesn't wear well on me....
And last but definitely not least,
"God...Why is this happening?"
Although I am constantly asking many questions about why things happen the way they do, I think this last question is probably impossible to answer and maybe even a controversial to ask.
Are we supposed to question God?
Can we scream at him?
When we are faced with Everest sized moments can we stomp our feet, scream at the top of hearts, if not our lungs, "WHY!?!?! THIS ISN'T FAIR AND I DON'T WANT IT!!!
Right or wrong my heart and lungs have been screaming lately. These last few weeks I have seen and felt pain and frustration that is beyond description. And through everything I have heard many people say, "Don't question God's plan. Have faith that this will lead to his glory... although we can't see how, these nightmares WILL work to his glory."
I do not pretend to have faith that will move mountains. I don't. I try but in the face of great struggles I feel as if I barely have the faith to move a mustard seed. That being said, I don't think God expects us to go through the deepest valleys without petition. So, I question him, in anger, in frustration, in complete lack of understanding of how any of the current situations can lead to good, much less Glory.
And I feel a like God is saying, "It's okay! Question Me, cry out for understanding!"

I see it like this, on occasion SJ and I get sideways with each other...Let's say he doesn't fold my undies the way I like them folded. We have been together for 10 years, so this shouldn't be an issue, but lets say it is... When I open my drawer and see the problem I can handle it one of two ways. I can slam the drawer, I am a slammer when I am mad, then I can proceed to slam everything I touch for the next two days while saying, "Nothing is wrong Dear... I am Fine!" OR I can talk to him. Depending on the situation talking could involve just talking or screaming, crying and stomping feet. The important part is the communication. If we communicate we will learn from each other and get closer. If we don't communicate and continually internalize the small things, the small things will become big things and the big things will become insurmountable.

I believe God is okay with questions, pleading, even anger and frustration. He wants us to scream, 'Why! Why, did this happen? I don't want this and I don't want to prove I can handle this!' When we cry out to God, in anger, in frustration and in sadness, when we yell, cry or plead we start the conversation, we start the healing and begin to move past the initial emotions. When the emotions are exposed they can begin to heal then we can begin learn from God. We will grow closer to him, learn to lean on him solely and start to experience the peace that surpasses understanding. Without the conversation, the grief overwhelms, the pain devours and the anger destroys.
So, Can You Ask A Question....YES YOU CAN!!

¹¹For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. ¹²Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. ¹³You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. ¹⁴I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity...

Jeremiah 29:11-14

EmJ

Calm of the Deep

2012-06-25T23:17:00.002-04:00

Tide Rises, the Tide Falls

Photo by D-Wight
all rights reserved

Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I love the ocean... I have always loved the ocean. I loved it when I was a child, even when I got stung by jellyfish. I loved it when I was a teenager for the freedom it presented. I loved it even more when I was in college and learned to scuba dive. I spent a tremendous portion of my Sophomore and Junior years under some type of water, whether it was in the HYPER building pool on UTK's campus, the springs of Northern Florida or in the Florida Keys. Training myself or others how to truly enjoy the depths of the ocean devoured me in college.
People would often ask,"Are you not afraid of the depth, the critters, or various other possibilities?" The answer was always, and still is,
"No, the depth brings a peace I can not explain, you just have to experience it to understand it."

When you are 100 ft underwater the silence is exhilarating, the calm is so deep it rings to your core and the beauty is unimaginable. Pictures do it no justice and words can't lift it high enough to explain the overwhelming calm and peace that comes from being totally cut off from the world. I guess I should say, you aren't TOTALLY cut off because I am certain if the boat disappeared and the tank pressure dropped to zero the OH SO amazing calm would flitter off like a school of fish being stalked by a Great White. You are, however, cut off from the effects of this world. You hear nothing, save the air bubbles flowing from your regulator, you see nothing, but the vastness in front of you and you feel nothing, but the very gentle ebb and flow of the ocean around you.

I think the last part of that statement is probably one of the most impressive experiences I have ever been blessed enough to experience. No matter how rough the ocean is on the surface, when you are deep in the ocean's belly the roughness is reduced to a slow, gentle movement. I remember one time we were going to a dive festival in the Florida Keys and the water was so rough that half the potential divers were 'feeding the fishes' while praying for God to calm the seas. It was rough... BUT the dive master promised us that the rough ride would be worth it when we got to the deep water festival. "This was going to be awesome" he told us, "when we get out to the reef all the dive boats will be piping music into the water and you will be able to swim around the reef and listen to the best beach music" But the only music we heard at that moment was yak & hurl, a green band with lots of members on our little dive boat. So let's just say, I had my doubts, at this point, that the dive would be as smooth as he was promising. When we reached the reef, the ocean was delivering roughly 5-6 foot waves but at the dive masters encouragement we suited up and jumped in.... SMACK....wave....CHOKE....inhaled wave.... I couldn't get deep enough, fast enough! So I exhaled the air from my BC and sank like a rock into the deep, rough waters.
Then it happened~ I huge wave rolled by, I saw the boats rock and roll above me and all I felt was a gentle lift and fall... ebb and flow.... I was astonished! For the next few minutes I floated, suspended in the middle of the ocean like a fish, just absorbing the gentle movement of the water around me. I knew the waves on the surface were not calm, I could see the boats rolling and smacking the surface, but the movement I felt was SO gentle! It was amazing to recognize the difference just a few feet of depth could make in the how I experienced the world around me. After a few minutes of floating the dive proceed and I got to experience life on the reef while listening to steel drums, not as peaceful as a normal dive but definitely a fun experience.
I had not thought of this dive in a long time, and then, a few Sundays ago Dr. Haun was talking about the Fruits of the Spirit, you know: Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness and Self Control; but specifically the fruit of Joy. In his sermon he mentioned that while Joy and happiness are often linked they are not the same. Happiness isn't always an indicator of Joy and Joy is not always reflected as happiness. While happiness is based on outward circumstances and conditions, true Joy is inward. Joy is a tremendously deep dimension of delight and enthusiasm that can't not be rocked by the ups and downs (ebbs and flows) of this life. Joy comes from the inside, a deep place within our heart and mind that stills us against the waves of this life.

When we are hanging off the back of the boat of life, wrenching up our toe nails, we know as soon as we jump in the depths of God's word we will feel peace. The movement of the situation will still be present but it will not rock us to the core. The Joy the Bible is talking about in Galatians 5: 22-23 & Psalms 28:7 strengthens our core so it is not shakeable. It makes us solid and able to withstand the outward waves with out losing our inward enthusiasm.

EmJ

Okay...it's been a while...

2012-06-08T13:40:00.001-04:00

I apologize for the extended absence. I had no idea how wonderfully exhausting May would be, but good news.... I SURVIVED! I have been told some people have resorted to watching reruns for the last month and for this I am terribly sorry. Although, I was told the reruns were of the Big Bang Theory. At least the laughter continued and maybe you can catch me up on the reruns because I have even missed those!

Here is a little summary on what we have been up to and why 'It's been a while...'

It was a rainy but great day!

Me and my beautiful Mom!

Mom completed her BSN, which you can read about in Perseverance. This degree was a long time coming and getting it finished in the midst of full on life was something worthy of celebration!

Mom and Her classmates.

The Sonon Sharks!

1st grade graduation.

LJ wrapped up a STELLAR year in 1st grade with a fun-filled field day, rockstar day (with a rockstar teacher!) and a 1st grade graduation. With previous struggles in the shadows and wonderful, WONDERFUL teachers in the present and future LJ has never been more excited about school!

My two rockstars and Mrs. Sonon

EJ is crowned.

EJ and GG

Then, we got to see a new king crowned, as EJ accepted the crown of Mr. Treehouse. He then graduated. In his acceptance speech he vowed to be as cool and charming as ever when he moves to his new school in the fall.

EJ gives the thumbs up!

Then came the birthdays....OH the birthdays....

Mom's Orchid Cake.

Mom's 60th.

Mom's birthday was a surprise and took some planning, but ended up a wonderful night with 'old' friends.

Reminiscing with friends,
family and photos.

LJ turned 8 this year and decided that he didn't want presents he wanted to have a shoe drive. We still had to have a little family party for him.

EJ turned 5 this year and wanted a zombie cake! This one took some work but thanks to Amy Fraser and her creative cakes, he got a 5 year old friendly zombie cake!

The Shoes.....

The Shoes... Over 250 pairs!

As I mentioned before, LJ came up with the idea to collect shoes at EJ and LJ's annual combined birthday party (downside to VERY CLOSE BIRTHDAYS). He said, "I don't want presents, I want people to bring shoes..new, used, big, small, fancy or plain...the type doesn't matter I just want SHOES!" He just wanted his friends to help support a foreign mission. He said that he had enough toys...mama almost hit the floor, while EJ hit the ceiling...he wasn't quite on board with the no presents idea....=) SO, this took a little more planning than a normal party. I will be happy to collect the shoes but then what? How do you get them to a foreign country? Who does this and what do I need to do to get the ball rolling? FYI the who and how was answered with Hearts of Christ Ministry. Can I make this a successful event? Well, YES! If your 8 year old child wants to do a mission event for his birthday, YOU MAKE IT A SUCCESSFUL EVENT!!!

And a success it was! We sent out the invites, prayed for a beautiful day and asked our friends and family to come support LJ and EJ in their mission to help others.

The delivery to Hearts Of Christ. The shoes will
be distributed locally and in Belize.

The Friends...

And last but not least...

The Anniversary...10 years!

The famous self portrait...

Two kids acting like adults....

Me and the Mister at Chateau Elon.

More to come VERY, VERY Soon.
EmJ

Does this blog make my butt look big?

2012-05-08T22:04:00.000-04:00

Okay, I have been wearing a certain company's undergarments for several years now and I have a bone to pick, well... technically a wedgie to pick with this company!

Everyone knows this company.

They push their panties with all the angels a man can dream up, even though I am sure devils would be more comfortable in the product they are pushing! No, this is not a rant about scantily clad models flashing their over-processed bodies at me and my family. In all honesty I would rather see those bodies than the ones that are generally inflicted on me every time I head to 'Wal-My-lord-did-no-one-love-you-enough-to-stop-you-before-you-got-out-of-the-house-in-that!!!

No...the wedgie that needs picking is either their undies are getting smaller or my butt is getting bigger! I know. I know. This sounds like a personal problem.

Some of you maybe saying, 'buy your drawers elsewhere', while others are saying, 'take the hint you are no longer part of their target demographic' AKA I am outta my 20's and over 100lbs. Oh! who I am kidding, 120lbs. And some of you may have already clicked the back button for fear of where this little rant is going. Oh well! For those of you that are still here, HERE IS THE QUESTION:

If you are wondering why they are smiling
it is because this underwear don't creep!

WHY, if my booty has shrank 3 pants sizes, do the new pair of angelics I just got BARELY cover the hind fracture??? NO, I didn't try anything new or fancy. Sorry dear! I got the good ol' standards, well as old and standard as the pantie-pushing Angels offer, and too bad I had to work today because I should have been at the movies, as many seats as I have been picking!

I need to 'ass'certain the correct answer to this question because if my booty shrinking is going to cause further shrinkage of the fancy panties, I will for the love of womankind and my sanity stop working out and eating right. This only seems fair because if the unders are going to fit the EXACT same no matter what size I am, then TO HECK WITH IT. Life will be much more enjoyable with a Five Guys Burger, fries and milk shake in one hand while the other picks my seat!

I guess until an accurate answer can be ascertained and as long as they are going to keep sending me coupons for free undies I will continue to exercise, eat right and attempt to squeeze my average size derriere into those freebies!

EmJ

Perseverance...

2012-05-05T19:50:00.001-04:00

Perseverance: Continuing in a course of action without regard to discouragement, opposition or previous failure.

Walking the Walk

3,794,928 people will turn 60 this year, of that 3.8 million only an incredibly small portion will also graduate from College... My Mom, Pat, will be one of the few that fall in both categories. Now this isn't the first college degree she has attained. The first was received in 1977. But to fully appreciate the dedication it required to get both of these degrees we have to start in 1975.
In 1975 Mom was pregnant with my bother, I mean Brother, (who I shall refer to as Dork) when she decided to apply to the inaugural class of a new nursing program. My Mom knew it would be difficult to get into this program because it was new and A LOT of people wanted to be a part of the program. So she decided to apply the first year, believing she didn't have the 'experience' to make the list the first year. But with high hopes of getting accepted the following year. This would have been ideal because the Dork would be 1-ish if she was accepted year two and this would give her more time to get motherhood and wife-hood under her belt prior to going back to school.

Mom at her first Graduation in 1977

This was a grand, grand plan but as usual she had under estimated her abilities and was accepted into the inaugural class. When she started school the Dork was 5 weeks old. For the next 2ish years my mother worked her tail off to finish Nursing School while working as a nursing assistant and raising an infant/toddler. I am a working mother and it is kicking my tail, I can not imagine putting school on top of the current Chaos....But she did it, powering through work, constant mounds of homework and pee covered books...the Dork figured out if he peed on the books Mom would have to stop studying and let them dry. Therefore, allowing her time to pay attention to him. He was a genius at an early age... Despite all this my Mother graduated in 1977 with an Associates Degree in Nursing, her RN license and a job at the local hospital! WOOHOO! Smooth Sailing! Outta school, Outta diapers, and Outta weird work hours (sort of). My parents thought they had finally caught that, OH SO elusive break!
Hehehe....Life has a frightening sense of humor....

Mom and Dad smooth sailing....

After a few, short months at her new job she got wonderful news that a bouncy, baby girl was going to make her entrance into the world. She says she cried profusely at the news... I have always assumed they were tears of pure Joy!
1978 came, as did I, and went as did the next 33 years...

Me, Mom and Dork in Maine

In those fast moving years Mom worked day and night (literally) to help provide a comfortable life for Dork and I. She strived endlessly to improve herself, and us by proximity, as she and Dad showed us we needed to work hard so we could explore and enjoy the world around us.
Over those years she worked her way through the ranks of nursing while finding her niche, in the OR. Then she worked her way to the top of that niche, and became the Director of Surgical Services and the President of East Tennessee Association of Operating Room Nurses (AORN). This would satisfy most, but, she longed for one more thing. The one thing that two children and life had caused her to postpone over and over. Her Bachelor's Degree.

The Fam...

Mom,
Today, May 5th 2012, you will graduate for a second time, this time at the top of your class. This time, the small people demanding your attention were your grandchildren. The lack of sleep wasn't from an infant, it was from the stresses of a full time Management position, where your performance affects the livelihood of others. This time, you had something more than pushy children and exhaustion...this time you had an aging and ailing parent who also needed you. So, to say the stresses were many, is to put it lightly. Yet, once again you powered through and never quit. Even when you wanted to quit, you stuck with it. You persevered to the finish, your 2nd college graduation, the one you did for you. I am so proud!!! You are an amazing woman and have taught me life isn't easy, BUT it is mine and, therefore, my responsibility to make it what I want!

Me and My Mom

Thank you for being you and being a wonderful example of beauty and grace in the light of stress and chaos.
I love you and I am SO proud of you!!
EmJ

Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda

2012-04-30T22:30:00.001-04:00

"SCOOBY-DOOBY-DOO!!"

I Coulda spent Friday night cleaning up from the busyness/business of last week, but instead I chose to do something a little more fun. I loaded up my family, a few friends and we watched the characters of childhood dreams float gracefully through the sky.

"Daniel teaching EJ to Fly"

I Shoulda spent Saturday carving down the mountains of laundry in my basement. However, due to the beautiful weather I decided there was nothing wrong with mountains and my time would be better spent elsewhere... The yard did get watered & carved down and the sun melted away the stress of the prior week.

"No..this isn't us...but you get the gist!

I Woulda worked on cleaning up the hairballs, dust bunnies and clutter mounts invading the Jenkins' Ranch. But the idea of warm bread, garlic dipping sauce, cool salad, hot homemade lasagna and family made the invaders seem like guests to the party. Although uninvited, they were unimposing and unimpressive in the light of the laughter and conversation.

I Coulda done a lot of stuff. I Shoulda done even more, and I Woulda done it all but as the saying goes.....

"YOU CAN DO ANYTHING, BUT NOT EVERYTHING!"

-David Allen

When the Coulda, Shoulda and Woulda's are what you miss out on, Life is what you get to enjoy!

EmJ

One Gray Hair....

2012-04-20T14:07:00.000-04:00

I found a gray hair...
in my eyebrow...
SJ says this is were it starts &
it is all downhill from this point...
he would know...

I think this grey hair is a sign. A sign the stress I store neatly down deep has finally started seeping to the surface and an impending explosion is very near. Now if you are a friend or family member you are probably safe. If you are a customer you may want to take cover....
My family and friends are the ones who already deal with my stressed out state. My customers, the ones who push me to this stressed out, wild-eyed (with a grey hair) point, reap none of the blissful insanity to which they drive me. This stinks!! I am so nice to the people that push me to the edge and so short-fused with the ones I love. Yes, I know my customers help pay my bills & this does play into the control I display. However, how many of those customers are going to be around when I am old and GRAYER to wipe whatever needs wiping???? Yeah...the room falls silent...
So as of today I think this dynamic is going to have to change. So far only one of the troublemakers has gotten an ear full and this was after four e-mails and five phone calls in less than an hour. FYI....THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO TO FIX THE ISSUE YOU ARE HAVING IN AN HOUR... If you are one of those people who harass and harass to get a situation handled because you have heard the ugly rumor 'the squeaky wheel gets the grease' let me clarify something, you may get grease but it may come from the bottom of my tire when I chase you down...' Please don't be this person....
Okay, so back to the lone gray, eyebrow hair... I am not fond of the idea that my hair is deciding to verbalize my frustrations! What right does my hair have to out me? If I can manage to keep the stress under control and minimize the number of times I blow a clients ears back, why should my hair 'turn' on me??? I guess maybe an unnamed child or husband could have been praying for something to get my attention...
Surely they wouldn't be this cruel....
EmJ
***no customers were harmed in the making of this post...***

Chocolate Milk, Baseballs & Family

2012-04-18T23:16:00.000-04:00

I was watching Peter Pan with my boys tonight and one of the Lost Boys asked Robin Williams, "What is your Happy thought Peter?" The adult Peter Panning couldn't remember... So I asked LJ, "What is your happy thought? He responds immediately with, "My Family." Then I asked EJ, "What is your happy thought? And he responds, "Chocolate Milk and Baseballs...."
Such honest and innocent answers.
Although I don't miss being a child, I do miss the simplicity and magic that comes with childhood. The smallest things are completely infatuating and the most complicated things are reduced to, 'Is it worth it the consequence?'
I love my kids and I am so excited to watch them grow but at the same time I am terrified of the day that the magic fades and life becomes a balancing act. At this point in their life they see only good and believe in all the magical parts of life which seem to fade in adulthood.
I have had a rough week...at work, at home, but most importantly in my head...
Thank goodness my boys only see the good. Mommy screams, cries, pouts...they tell me it will be okay... When I fail to see how it will be okay, they hug me, love me, kiss me and make me giggle. Then I remember that all the 'stuff' that is weighing so heavily on my heart is just 'stuff' and the little arms that hold me are all that matter. When I fail to see the magic in the world around me, I can feel it in their arms and kisses and hear it in their sweet, sweet words. I love my boys, the innocence that engulfs them, the forgiveness that radiates from them and love that pours from them...
No wonder the Bible says in Matthew 18-3:

“Truly I tell you, unless you change

and become like little children,

you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Children don't over think things or don't give more weight to a situation than it deserves. They simply believe that everything will be okay...

And it is when we choose to Believe.

-EmJ

We have it all WRONG!!!

2012-04-08T00:05:00.000-04:00

5:15 am -(alarm sounds) Grr...I get up, smack it for being annoying and go back to sleep for 8 mins.
5:23 am -(beep...beep) I gently nudge SJ and politely ask him to take care of this annoyance because my smack obviously wasn't hard enough. (SJ refutes the politeness)

The One Eyed Screamer

5:31 am -(beep...beep) I get up, FURIOUS that the one eyed screamer has the audacity to wake me, AGAIN. I call it the one eyed screamer because it has a laser, yes, a freakin' laser (...Austin Powers reference) that shoots the time and temperature onto the ceiling so you don't even have to sit-up to see the time...laziness at its finest.
5:39 am -(B..E..E..P, B..E..E..P) I nudge SJ and ask him to, "Get THAT" (the kindness has left me).
5:46 am -At this point I know you are asking, "Why not just get up?" Well...I just don't wanna...
5:54 am -Kick SJ because I am completely annoyed that he can get up, slap the one eyed screamer and go on to get another 15 minutes of REM sleep before I kick him again...
6:02 am - CRAP!! I'm going to be late! Why didn't the alarm wake me up....

Although this does accurately describe most mornings, Monday-Friday, it hasn't always been this way. Once upon a time we were getting up at 4:45 am (no slapping or kicking involved) running a few miles and enjoying a quiet cup of coffee before the madness began. Now, it seems, the madness begins an hour before we get out of bed.

As maddening as that little ritual is, it is not nearly as maddening as the next 30 minutes.

Lately, I have noticed the morning routine is severely out of balance... Despite what you may think, this has nothing to do with whether or not SJ is pulling his weight in the morning. Honestly as many times as I kick him it's a wonder he can even walk to the bathroom. No, this disparity comes from how little he has to do to get ready every morning. The man crawls out the bed looking like Cousin Itt from the Addams Family and 20 minutes later he looks like he is running for office. IT IS ANNOYING! 20 minutes after I get out of bed I still look like a frizzy headed mess with sheet creases and drool marks on my face. This isn't fair! I have no doubt that with an additional 30-45 minutes of 'attention' I can match his pretty and raise him one. But the additional effort and time requirement is what gets me. I am starting to think as animals, we humans, have the male/female dynamic all wrong and I have evidence!

One of my favorite customers is the Briarwood Ranch Safari off Exit 12 in Morristown. I LOVE calling on them and not just because they buy billboards. But I also get to feed a Lemur, pet a zebra, but not the female, she's grumpy (probably can't get the male to turn off the rooster in the morning) and see some of the coolest animals that you would never expect to see in East Tennessee. It was while I was there, last Thursday, that I had the epiphany* that certain parts of the male/female dynamic were off.

One of my subjects...

After the billboard business was handled, I started looking around for interesting animals and a good picture. At Briarwood this never takes long, especially, when the Peacocks are around. On this particular day, the two males had roosted on the roof of the barn and although the lighting was all wrong for an amazing color picture, it was perfect for a picture that showed their kingly crowns. After pretending I was a photographer and snapping several pictures I noticed the Peahen standing at the base of the barn pecking at her toes while fully ignoring the beautiful displays that have me mesmerized. We have all seen the breathtaking colors of the Peacocks when they ruffle their tail feathers trying to catch the eye of the nearest female. But the Peahens...have you seen those? Just in case you haven't seen one or don't remember, let me remind you. Peahens look like someone lopped off the head of a beautiful Peacock and stuck it on the body of a long tailed turkey...aka...they ain't all that. But the males in all their glory, strut around putting on these amazing displays while TRYING to get the attention of the long tailed turkey with the pretty face...

tamstuart.com

For the record, I can do long tailed turkey....WITH NO EFFORT!
This little show I witness tells me Nature intends the males to be the ones that worry and preen, not the females!
How wonderful would it be if we ladies could stand around clucking like a bunch of hens, picking our toes (maybe not with our teeth...yuck) while all the pretty boys were preening and strutting to get our attention?

I know, I know.....stop whining!

My husband loves me no matter what I look like and this is confirmed every morning when I finally crawl out of bed and look in the mirror. But the outside world of bosses, co-workers, clients and potential clients would not care for me looking like the long tailed turkey. Therefore the morning ritual of plucking, preening, applying, smoothing and poofing shall continue....

I am just saying the animals have it right on this one!! The males should have to do the work of getting all gussied up while the females sit picking their toes and the prettiest male.

EmJ

***Mr. Ron Nease, the owner of Briarwood Ranch Safari, has donated a family pass (2 adults, 2 kids) for me to give away to one of my readers...YAY! Leave a comment below and I will randomly draw a winner on Friday, April 13th so one of you can visit this amazing park and see how the humans have it all wrong!***

Another of my 'subjects' at Briarwood

*FYI...this epiphany was probably brought on by a facial breakout that would make a 16 year old cringe.

L..E..N..T... Find out what it means to me...

2012-04-01T17:10:00.000-04:00

Over the last 41 one days I have had the following conversation multiple times:

RP: Would you like a cup of coffee?

Me: No, thanks.

RP (weird look): But you love coffee...

Me: Yep, but I gave it up for Lent

RP: Oh...Okay...wait... Aren't you Baptist?

Me: Yes.

RP: I didn't think Baptists practiced Lent?

Me: Well, most don't but I started observing Lent in College and really enjoy the experience.

RP (confused look): ...ookaay.

(RP=Random Person)

What is Lent?

Lent is a period of prayer, pentance, repentance and self denial which runs from Ash Wednesday to Good Friday.

Why do I choose to practice Lent when it is not a practice observed by the denomination I am a part of?

I choose to observe Lent because I think it is a very personal way to reflect on my own Faith and how easy it is to let the day to day fuzz distract me from my personal walk with Christ. The self denial part of Lent causes me just enough discomfort to constantly remind me of sacrifice. My sacrifice maybe small in contrast to the BIG picture, but I try to choose something that is big enough in my life to make me take notice. So, No I am not the 'right' denomination but, this minor issue aside, I truly see the value in denying myself a small pleasure in order to help me focus on a much bigger Sacrifice.

So what did I choose to sacrifice this year? Coffee sweet, sweet coffee....

A little background will probably help you understand why this is a big deal. I love coffee. I truly LOVE coffee and for me it isn't just for breakfast, although 40oz before noon isn't a stretch. I enjoy coffee with breakfast, then on the way to work and then when I am at work how better to survive a 2-3 hour meeting? Coffee does the trick every time. Then the 3pm droops rear their ugly head and a coffee beverage fixes the problem every time. And that is just Monday - Friday, on Saturday and Sunday I should probably just walk around with an IV drip and save myself the dirty mugs. Heck I even like a little coffee poured on a hot biscuit with a little butter and brown sugar. (don't knock it until you have tried it)

So to quit, cold turkey, 41 days ago (not that I am counting) was a BIG deal, not in the big picture, but in my picture it was huge.

In the beginning, I was most concerned with the side effects of quitting, because obviously I wasn't an occasional user, so how bad were the first few days going to be? Was I going to walk around half asleep and half blind with a withdrawal headache? Oh, what was I thinking. But wait! I am not giving up caffeine SO surely I can offset these side effects, Right? Wrong, I probably could have if I liked any other caffeinated drink but the sad, sad truth is I drink water and coffee, and basically in equal portions. So headaches were bearable and the fog has lifted sssslllooowwwlllyyy. But the side effect that shocked me most wasn't' physical, it was mental. The cravings were awe inspiring and are STILL awe inspiring. The times I just thought about, dreamed about and even on occasion almost picked up and drank an abandoned cup of coffee truly shocked me. Weird Right? Well sort of but not really. I chose to give up something that I would miss for this reason. Something that, in this season of Lent, would make enough of impression on me that my minor version of sacrifice would serve it's purpose well. AND boy did I hit the nail on the head! With each craving...each internal thought or external question I am reminded of the ultimate sacrifice that was made for me.

I am not expected or asked to participate in Lent but I can honestly tell you each time I do my faith is strengthened. Not through external influence but rather a internal dialogue that goes something like this:

WOW! That coffee smells SO good....Oh just one cup on Sundays. Sundays are supposed to be free days! no. no. no. 46 days...! Emily 46 days...! You can live without the shakes and dragon breath for 46 days! Lord please give me the strength to make this small, PUNY, sacrifice for 46 days!! Oh! And while I am talking to you please remember that LJ needs your strength today and EJ has been struggling with a temper and SJ has a really important meeting today and OH! Yeah please forgive me for the childish tantrum I had this morning, I really need you to help me with my temper...I don't know where EJ gets it....

See the flow? It starts with an Earthly craving that is followed with a plea for strength and then the craving is redirected in a Heavenly way.

Lent isn't about denomination. It is about allowing God to use a small part of our day to day life to transform our mind and hearts in a very big way.

Who would have thought coffee could transform my prayer life?!?!

EmJ

For the record...On Saturday Morning I will be drinking and GREATLY enjoying the biggest cup of coffee you have ever seen!!!

Glory

2012-03-31T09:44:00.001-04:00

glory [glawr-ee, glohr-ee] (glawr-ee is definitely the southern version)

Something that is a source of honor, fame or admiration; a distinguished ornament or an object of pride.

The Winter is long and the toils are great but at last Spring breaks.

The frost fades and the ground warms . The dormant beauties begin to stretch their arms, as they inhale the warm breeze and bathe in the rays of the new Sun.

Then as promised, His glory is manifest through their patience and restoration begins...

...if only for a season.

Then your light will break forth like the morning and your restoration will quickly appear...

Isaiah 58:8

EmJ

What if worms had machine guns?

2012-03-24T10:08:00.000-04:00

What would happen if worms had machine guns? Would they be able to take over the world? Probably not...one good rain storm would wash them and their tiny machine guns away. Now if they had lifeboats and machine guns we might be in trouble! This line of thought has absolutely NO point. Nothing deep or impactful just a thought a friend shared with me a few weeks ago. A thought I actually spent some time pondering for no other reason than it was kind of funny. This may actually confirm what some of you were already thinking, I am a tad bit crazy. Crazy is still undiagnosed but I am a firm believer that silliness and fun are what make life bearable and if you can throw in a smidgen of randomness you should be good.
Recently I have both read and heard the statement, "Life is hard, not because you are doing it wrong, but because it is just hard!" This is SOOO true, and because it is SOOO true I think it is incredibily important to make fun a priority. As an adult it is very easy to get lost in the tedious nature of the position, so making fun a priority becomes just as important as paying the electric bill. (But don't forget to pay the electric bill or you will learn how to have fun 1800's style)
Here are a few things I try to remind myself to do as often as possible:

PLAY!! As much and as hard as you can!

Daydream...look for beauty everywhere and remember what you 'used' to do before the responsibilities and laundry began to pile up.

Try to find something that you want to do, enjoy doing and do it! (not because you have too, but because it makes you feel alive.)

Act like a fool to make your family, friends or, most importantly, yourself laugh! (within reason, I am not bailing anyone out of jail)

Remember not to take yourself to seriously. (this will cause other adults to roll their eyes and look for the nearest exit.)

Most importantly never forget, the memories we make in the good times are what carry us through the rough times.....

SO MAKE A LOT!

EmJ

I can't get no....satisfaction...

2012-03-23T09:47:00.000-04:00

A note that I jotted down in the midst of a minor meltdown:

'I am out of sorts. I have turned my world on its ear. Although I am certain it was my idea, being here, upside down in a world that was right side up just weeks ago is strange and uncomfortable. I know change is the only constant and I am generally okay with small amounts of change. However, the problem with this change is I don't know where I am going or exactly what I am doing. And the fact that everything is so exciting and nauseatingly unfamiliar at the same time makes me want to sit in the floor and cry.'

At the ripe old age of 33 I have come to the conclusion that I don't like change. I have also found that change is ALWAYS present and NEVER comfortable. I have heard a quote several times and I am not exactly sure who said it first but here it is:

'People will resist change until the pain of not changing exceeds the pain of change.'

AMEN, if I can avoid it for just a little while longer that is what I will choose! The interesting part of this is, every time a 'change' has occurred in my life, big or small, welcome or unwelcome, I feel like a better and stronger woman on the other side.
So I could ask, "Why is change so hard?" but really that is a stupid question. (I know you have been told there are no stupid questions but that isn't true. There are a few stupid questions...so think before you ask...)

Change sucks because it requires new thought, new actions and revision to the daily routine that is so comfortable and easy. So the question is not, 'why is it so hard?' but rather, "How do we recognize the difference between satisfaction and complacency?" When do we agree to make a change because it is the right decision, NOT the EASY one, NOT the COMFORTABLE one, but the right one to move us forward. And going one step further how do we recognize that we need to seek out change because we have allowed complacency to dominate our life?

For as much change as I have experienced in my adult life one would think I would be at least ok with new paths...HAHAHA...no...not really.... I am pretty sure the drastic amount of upheaval experienced thus far has made me cling desperately to moments of consistency. Thank goodness for my wonderful husband! I am married to a man that is 'never' satisfied and is always in motion. In this area he is my 'nudger', always supportive but always 'suggesting' new ideas, remodels, reconstructions etc, etc. (His willingness to randomly teardown walls is why I have a walk-in closet and a remodeled kitchen that I love) Complacency is not his nemesis, it is mine. Although I have accused him on more than one occasion of 'never being satisfied' (to which he responds with his biggest grin, 'I am an idea man') the truth is we balance each other out. We are constantly pushing and pulling one another to stay put and keep moving and this helps A LOT!
The trickier idea is figuring out this balance internally. How do you motivate yourself to step out on the 'proverbial' ledge on occasion, while reigning in your desires and becoming 'satisfied'.
For Example, my career. I am happy...very happy..with my current position, it challenges me to continually improve but it also allows me to be me. I don't do very well with schedules, former bosses will concur. Despite the happiness with my career the question that has plagued me recently is, "I'm happy, but am I allowing myself to be complacent?' I am at the point in my career that the good part of my reputation precedes me and therefore I get requests for interviews and resumes. But I am happy, so I say, 'No, but thank you for asking!' These positions can be bigger and better or smaller and incredibly intriguing but the response has always been, 'No, but thank you for asking'. Even when the opportunity to promote within my company locally presented itself....Nope, I am good.
HMMMM.....Am I satisfied or complacent? who knows....(wink, wink) But I do believe it is very important to recognize the difference between being happy and being unwilling to face change.

Change is good even if it is exhausting. The more we try to avoid it the bigger it becomes, like a boogey man in the closet it only grows with time. Facing change with open arms and excitement is a bit of a stretch but ignoring it only makes it more difficult.

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiatstes 3:1-8

There is a time for change don't ignore it, face it and know that no matter how difficult it appears in the moment, one day you will look back and say, "WOW, that wasn't so bad!"

EmJ

Rest

2012-03-16T07:37:00.000-04:00

picture from flickr: vonSchnauzer

Your vision is blurry from years of taking in the images of life. Your head spins with tasks incomplete. Your heart yearns for one more year, one more month, one more day, one more moment, yet your body is weary for the tasks completed. Warmth consumes you as you finally lay down, giving in to the inevitable. Like a warm bed after a long day, soft and enrapturing, the urge to close your eyes wins and last you rest.
Waking refreshed and completely restored in the arms of the Father.

Death is a subject that I, much like the rest of the world, do not want to contemplate. I know it is out there and I am comfortable with my place in eternity, but the idea of being separated from the ones that I love, even for a short period, makes my heart weary. For as much as I don't want to think about the one certainty this life holds, sometimes the choice is not mine. When death enters our lives we have to deal with it, when you have kids you have to try to explain it (this can be worse than dealing with it). How do you explain death? The End or the Beginning? I am a Christian, so in my eyes, it is a little of both. But as comfortable as I am with the end/beginning, my boys don't really follow my train of thought. Maybe it derailed and I haven't been notified....
I tried to explain it in the, 'ashes to ashes, dust to dust' way and I was quickly greeted with horrified looks and shouts of, "WE TURN TO DUST?!?! Like the guy in Indiana Jones!!!" "Well, No, it doesn't just happened like POOF!, it is a longer process...." horrified looks intensify....
I started to explain it like a deep sleep, but realized this could make bedtimes a nightmare. So I quickly stop and say, "well, hmmm" as I appear to be pondering a new way of explaining I am, in reality, congratulating myself for stopping while I was ahead... Death, like this line of questioning, intimidates the hell out of me. I am not afraid of it, I just can't get my head around it and I STRUGGLE with things that I can't fathom. So what now...I can't explain it in a non-terrifying/poofy manner and my intimidation level is causing me to say hmmm...ALOT. All the while, my children are looking at me like deer in the head lights. So I do what any good mother does..."Boys, enough talk, eat your supper...."

Picture from Flickr: MCar

This conversation, for all the damage it may have done to my children, really helped me realize it isn't the aftermath that bothers me it is the actual event. The fact that there is no way to know when, where, or why makes a control freak like me a teeny bit uncomfortable. The reality that nothing will ever change this fact is what makes me leary when I try to think or talk about it. However, the more I allowed myself to think about it, not in a grim way, but in a way that I can grasp, the more the intimidation melted away . What if in the moment you surrender to death it feels like you are finally getting the rest you have been longing for? Think about it for just a second! No matter how exhausted we are in this life we don't ~~want to~~ let ourselves stop and rest. We fight through more work, more dishes, more laundry, more dust, and more things that make us feel as if we need just a little more time. But eventually the weight of the tasks accomplished cause us to stop, we then realize rest is the only thing we can now handle. At this moment your bed has never felt better, and although your mind spins with the incomplete tasks, the weariness wins and you are finally still....

Spolier....The next part is the best!

After the collapse, after the surrender and when the stillness is stirred once again. You wake up refreshed and ready.

Now, this idea I can relate to, this idea doesn't intimidate me...it energizes me!!!

It is the same way with the resurrection of the dead,

Our earthly bodies are planted in the ground when we die,

but they will be raised to live forever.

Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory.

They are buried in weakness, but they will be raised in strength.

1 Corinthians 15-42-44

Picture from flickr: Djensen

But then it occurred to me...We don't have to be speaking about a physical death and the same rules apply!!

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,

For I am gentle and lowly in heart,

you will find rest for your souls,

For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-29

Now that is comforting.

EmJ

Bright Ideas

2012-03-11T14:17:00.001-04:00

When was the last time you did something that was uncomfortable? I am not referring to squeezing into your skinny jeans, I am referring to something that pushed you outside your daily comfort zone. Have you ever had the urge to call someone that you haven't spoken with in months and you don't know why you have a desire to call them, you just do? Do you call them or do you make an excuse of why you can't call them; "I don't have time", "I don't know what to say" or "The last time we spoke it didn't go well and I am not in the mood to do to that again." There are a multitude of excuses, but the bottom-line is it makes you uncomfortable and we don't like being uncomfortable (unless it is in the name of fashion).

Are we afraid? Does this go back to the Fear that I discussed earlier, where some of us like it and some of us don't? I don't think so. I love scuba diving with a 500lb Grouper chasing me but the idea of telling a stranger I think they have a beautiful smile terrifies me! But every so often I get the urge to tell a complete stranger they are beautiful, they made me smile with their kindness or that their children are making me laugh even though they are making them crazy. Why is this so hard? It's not like I am consenting to jump out of a plane, it is a few words that may change the course of their day. I know this because kind words from a stranger or not so stranger have changed the course of my day many times. How wonderful does it feel to have someone smile at you and say, "your smile has brightened my day" or "I love your shirt"? It makes you stand a little taller and feel a little stronger, doesn't it? How about those times you have had a horrific day at work and you aren't sure you are going to survive the night, but the simple task of getting the mail becomes a day changer. There, in the midst of the bills, junk and catalogues is a small envelope addressed to you from a high school friend that you haven't spoken with in years. The note is short and sweet saying, 'I just had you on my heart and wanted to say hello! I hope all is well'. At that moment your heart warms, your frown cracks and everything gets a little easier.
If you want to believe this is a coincidence please do. I, however, choose to believe it is something so much cooler than coincidence. Let's consider this specific event. Sometime, about a week prior to my crappy day, someone that I rarely speak to, (with exception of 'likes' and 'LOL's' on Facebook), decided to write me a note. She then placed it in the mail to be delivered on the very day that I needed an unexpected smile. I choose to believe that God knew I was going to need to smile that night and he put a desire in my friend's heart that COULD make it happen. The trick to making this chain of events work is that when that little voice said, "Hey I should send Emily a card" my friend didn't make excuses or worry about what I would think, she just did it and the 'plan' worked.

His plan. Worked.

Another example of this phenomena is I love to send snail mail cards. I really, really enjoy sending hand-written, old-fashioned cards. I know this is not the new fancy way of communication. I could e-mail, text, message or poke someone but, its just not the same (especially the 'poking' that is just strange). There is something about having tangible proof that someone thought about you and followed through on that thought all the way to the post office. Sometimes I have a purpose, sometimes I just have a desire to let someone know that I am thinking about them. But no matter the inspiration for the card it never ceases to amaze me how many times these cards are delivered on the exact day the recipient needs it. It also amazes me that even though I really enjoy sending these cards it is still difficult to send them every time someones name pops into my head. The sad thing is, it is not difficult because of any good reason, it is difficult because of the excuses that quickly arrive on the heals of the name. I am busy, I don't have any cards or stamps etc. etc. etc.
I recently asked a bunch of friends to step out of their comfort zones and send a note of encouragement to a friend that most of them did not know. This friend is recovering from surgery and I wanted to express to her that even though she didn't know them a multitude of people would be praying for her as she healed. I knew that asking people to send a card to someone that they didn't know would require them to step outside their comfort zone and I didn't know if everyone would be willing. But they were willing (my friends are amazing) and she received tons of support through random acts of kindness and love from women she had never met. The tug on my heart to do something different, to do something that depended on the willingness of others to do something that was outside the norm has made an incredible impact not only on my friend but me as well.

THIS IS HUGE....

If we will make ourselves available to add something to the world around us, be a small light in this world, we can make a difference. We will impact each other in amazing and life changing ways. I will testify that it is not easy to reach out, it is easier to make the excuses, look away and pretend the thought never crossed my mind. BUT consider the possibilities if you ignore the excuses and step out of your comfort zone. Look in the eyes of a stranger and acknowledge the desire to speak or reach out, regardless of if it makes 'sense' to you. What if instead of worrying that complimenting a total stranger will make us look strange, we were more concerned with WHY we so desperately want to say something to a stranger. If you step outside yourself and your comfort zone, obey the call in your heart, you may find that you can be the love that somebody desperately needs at that exact moment.

WOW... if we will do this, the future has never looked so bright!

www.findingserendipity.com

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." Matthew 5:14-16

EmJ

The spectacular picture above was provided by my friend Patty Christopher, who has become a beautiful light in my life! Please visit her at www.findingserendipity.com.

Wildly Inappropriate

2012-03-07T21:01:00.000-05:00

Picture this. We are at the doctors office, a typical Pediatrician's exam room, various animals on the wall, a single 'parent' chair, an examination table and of course impending doom. I know that any minute the door will open and a sweet faced demon will walk in with her tray of torture devices, more commonly known as shots. I know this is coming, my sweet faced boys fortunately do not. At this point they are blissfully unaware as they play with my phone and the paper robes in which they are currently adorned. They currently feel as if they have won this battle unscathed and will be collecting their booty of stickers as they walk out the door any minute now....
Then it happens, the nurse walks through the door with a smile on her face and a very recognizable tray in her hand. Their faces pale, the smiles fade and the panicked eyes shoot daggers at me as they say, "Who is getting a shot?" "It is him, isn't it?" As him starts furiously shaking his head NO! I calmly say, "both of you will be getting a shot today, but remember these shots are for your own good." However, this last part is lost in wailing that is currently pouring out from my oldest, my youngest is still silent as he pinches himself trying to awake from the nightmare.
Most Moms, I imagine, start to feel sympathetic for their children and maybe even start crying at the prospect of forcing their children to endure such unpleasantries. What does this Mom do? I start laughing...It starts as a slight grin, with the wailing, and then turns to a bold face laugh as the TOTAL drama of the moment erupts. Judging by the looks on the nurses faces this IS NOT the reaction they were expecting, but this is absolutely what they get from me. As the situation progresses the cries, wails of woe and giggles only get worse. Now please understand I am not a sadistic Mother that enjoys watching her children cry and get shots. But I am the type of person that laughs at the most inappropriate times. You make me angry, my first reaction is to laugh. You make me sad, laughter, then tears and sometimes they overlap. My kids wailing at the doctors office as if they just found out they were getting a limb amputated....borderline hysteria.
I like to think that I am always looking for the humor in situations and that is why, when I am faced with something like the shots, laughter is my gut reaction. I mean if the nurses weren't laughing behind my back they missed a golden opportunity. At one point I am holding down a 40 pound version of the Hulk while my 7 year old is crawling under the table trying to make a break for it. THIS IS GOOD STUFF PEOPLE, laughter is required!
Laughter is what attracted me to my husband and laughter is what has gotten us through some of our toughest times. Laughter is free and when you are broke it comes in handy! Laughter is what makes the difference between close friends and acquaintances. Can you laugh so hard you pee your pants in front of an acquaintance? Heck no! But if it is a good friend, chances are, you will both have wet pants before the moment passes! Laughter is what gets me through my toughest days at work. The days if I was trying to screw up I couldn't do it right. Like the day I met with a customer who seem more interested in giving me a coke than listening to anything I had to say. After trying repeatedly to get him off the coke and back on task I finally slouched back to my car defeated. Only after checking my lipstick in the mirror did I realize the need for the coke. The black sesame seeds from my sushi lunch had nestled themselves in every crevice my teeth had to offer. He was probably trying to determine if I had half my lunch in my teeth or the worst case of gingivitis he had ever seen. This is when laughter is the only option. Not just any laughter but the deep down gut laughter that can make any day brighter despite the defeats which threaten to darken it; even if it is at your own expense.
If we can laugh, if we can find the smallest amount humor in the worst of situations we will catch a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel or for my boys the sticker table as they exit doctors office.

EmJ