My blog–well, quite frankly it has been abandoned. Over the last few months I have not had the energy or the time to keep up with daily posts. I’ve been a little busy overseeing a preschool ministry at church, being a wife and mom, moving and working on a little writing project that has invaded every area of my life.

Truly, I have wanted to return to blogging but have said a thousand times to Bruce, “I just feel so empty on the inside. I have nothing left to write about.”

But what should pull me out of an 8-month blog hiatus?

The death of Maurice Sendak.

Sounds sorta morbid huh? Just hold on, I promise to take a strong upward turn here and move onto more uplifting subjects.

On Thursday night, I read an article about Sendak’s death. I was flooded with tons of emotions. Immediately I was transported back to Where the Wild Things Are.  And the beautiful sets for the Pacific Northwest Ballet company’s version of the Nutcracker that Sendak designed.  His stories and art transported me–and untold numbers of other young children–to places our imaginations were incapable of taking us on our own. Reading his stories and looking at his art, it was like Sendak was sitting beside me giving me a little nudge to go ahead and enter into a world full of excitement and wonder.

I am the beneficiary of a mom whose love of books and written word led her to a degree in library science. She was one of those moms who had strong opinions about a lot of things. One of her firm beliefs is that children should read. And, read a lot because books are overwhelming superior to television and film.

So strong in her opinion about this that it caused her to make crazed decisions.

At the beginning of each summer, my sisters and myself were assigned summer reading lists. No big deal right? As soon as the summer reading list was posted, the crazies kick in. My mom unplugged the TV, removed it from where it was perched the previous spring and flung it in the closet. The TV was not to be returned until summer was over.

No amount of begging or whining ever returned the TV during those long, hot summer months.  So we read.

Children’s book launched me to the classics. I still remember exactly where I was when I discovered that Reverend Dimmesdale was the father of Hester Prynne’s baby in the Scarlet Letter. I have read that book at least five times since. And the day I discovered that Pip’s benefactor was the escaped convict he graciously helped years earlier, I let out an audible gasp. I was shocked. Dickens had me hook, line, and sinker. I hung on his every word and still had no inclination it was the seemingly despicable character that was, in fact, the most charitable. Dickens turned my world upside down. I have read Great Expectations more than a dozen times.

And don’t even get me started on Jane Austen.

Thank You, Mom, a thousand times over for flinging that TV where it needed to be flung.  And marching me to the public library to open up a world of wonder.  Your love for the written word developed my imagination.

In honor of Sendak and in celebration of my Mom, I did what was only fitting. I curled up with my little girl and we read all afternoon.

We read The Snowy Day and Hi, Cat. We read Blueberries for Sal and Make Way for Ducklings. We read The Little House.

And in my best rhyming cadence we read:

In an old house in Paris

that was covered in vines

Lived twelve little girls

in two straight lines.

In two straight lines they broke their bread

Brushed their teeth

and went to bed.

They left the house at half-past nine—

The smallest one was Madeline.

So Gwendolyn, let’s go on a journey with Jack Ezra Keats, Robert McCloskey, Virginia Burton, and Ludwig Bemelmans. They will usher you into a world of excitement and wonder. And once inside that world, thank your Grammy. Because of her, I take you there.

Today’s guest blogger is my sister, Caroline.   The following is a letter she wrote to the editor of the Paris (Texas, that is…) newspaper.

Dear Editor,

Sometimes my days are measured in small achievements, the laundry, the dishwasher emptied, a dinner cooked, or even children bathed and fed.  I have a five month old baby and a three year old son.  But today, I took my children and stood on Clarksville Street as the procession of U.S. Marine Sgt. Jay M. Hoskins passed by.  I was moved to think of his widow, expecting their second child.  How will her days be measured, knowing that no one will come home at five o’clock?  In small achievements or in just surviving another day, minute, or second?

What can be offered for such a sacrifice?  Like so many citizens of Paris, my presence was all I could offer today.  But, I believe my one small achievement on this particular day was to teach my sons to show honor and gratitude to the memory of one who has offered his life for my personal freedom.
Thank you, Caroline W.

Thank you, Caroline, for the gracious reminder that we need to celebrate the real heroes in life and as equally important that we teach our children the great value we place on our freedom. Freedom comes at a cost.

What have you done to honor those who have sacrificed for your personal freedom?

What creative ideas do you have for teaching your children the importance of honoring “the real heroes” in life?

Let me know your thoughts!
Heather

I originally wrote this post on July 8, 2009. I’ve decided to post it again, mostly because I needed the gentle reminder that there is beauty in the mundane. So, here’s a shout out to all the moms out there who work tirelessly to raise children who will one day make a difference in this broken world. You are making an investment in a soul that will live for eternity.  Your children need you and this world is desperate for your eternal impact.  Happy Mother’s Day!

I checked my watch.  It was 11:23 a.m. to be exact.  So early in the day, and I just changed the third dirty diaper.   The day was shaping up to be more smelly and less exciting than I hoped.

To be honest, there are days when I long for some excitement.  As a pastor’s wife, I daydream about doing something important at the church.  Eagerly, I await the details of my husband’s day because I love to hear about ministry, I love to talk about ministry, I love to hear the stories of God at work in people’s lives.  Some days I wish I could be at the church to be apart of something big.

My tendency is to think the mundane is unimportant because it is dull, boring.  Truly, the polar opposite of exhilarating.   There are no awards ceremonies for changing the poopiest diapers; no one celebrates the wiping of runny noses.

But it occurs to me that everyone from Oprah to slick L.A. marketing executives can ‘redefine’ anything these days.  (Oprah says that 50 is the new 30.  As I approach middle age this is one redefinition I don’t mind.)

My redefinition of motherhood involves finding beauty in the mundane. I have the task of raising the lovely soul God has entrusted to me.  It is my responsibility to shape her character, expose  her to God’s global Kingdom, and to launch her into her future.

Before my daughter was born, I prayed three things.  I prayed she would be tall.  Sounds silly, but being short has never afforded me the opportunity to purchase pants off the ready to wear rack.   Well, that’s not exactly true.  I could buy the perfect length jeans from Petite Sophisticate.  But I’d rather not wear jeans with elastic in the back.   Naturally, I thought it would be nice if my daughter never needed a tailor.

Also, I hoped she would get her dad’s personality.  His personality attracts all sorts of people.  He has friends from all walks of life.  Every time I turn around, he is encouraging those around him.

Thirdly, I prayed my daughter would be the next Lottie Moon.

Not many people know who Lottie Moon was.  Charlotte Diggs, her given name, was a young single woman who in 1873 left the security of home, gave up all comforts and conveniences, and yielded all that she was and all she hoped to be for God to use in the distant land of China.  So committed to the cause of Christ that when a famine hit the land and food was scarce she gave away all her food.  She literally starved to death while protecting and saving the lives of countless Chinese children.  Even in death she yielded all she had, every morsel of food, for the cause of Christ.

I never want my daughter to know the pains of hunger or the thirst of dehydration.  I want to her to know true love and marry a wonderful man.  I want her to experience the absolute overwhelming joy of having a child of her own.

What I do want, however, is for my daughter to possess the same spirit as Lottie Moon.  I want her to live with a willingness to abandon all comforts, all dreams, all conveniences in order to fulfill God’s dreams and plans for her life.  I hope she accomplishes things I could never do and that she goes places I never went.  I hope she attempts things I was too scared to try.

Desiring these things for my daughter means my responsibility is huge.  I have to expose her to cultures, languages, and all manner of odd foods in order to cultivate a love for the world.  There will be a day when I take her on her first mission trip and have to explain to her why there are children who live in one-room huts and sleep on dirt floors.  I will have to model sacrificial service and generous giving to prove that God is trustworthy….that God is worth abandoning all comforts and conveniences for in order to be apart of His global kingdom.

Shaping her character will require capitalizing on hundreds of teachable moments.  I have to watch and be ready to catch those teachable moments so they don’t come and go without my notice.  That means I have to be aware of the mundane, because God might choose to work through moments that I think unimportant.  God’s ways are not my ways and He might deem a moment important that I think otherwise.  He finds beauty in things I gloss over.  He finds value in things that seem insignificant to me.

Therefore, I must also see beauty in the mundane.  I must be poised to catch those moments.

Those dirty diapers and runny noses aren’t so mundane.  There is beauty in the mundane because each day presents an opportunity to dream big dreams and think big thoughts for my daughter.  Every day is the opportunity to shape a little girl into a young woman who is so committed to carrying out God’s plan for her life that she changes the world.

Suddenly, my job description is brimming with excitement. Motherhood redefined.  World changer. Future builder.  Character shaper. It doesn’t get more exciting than that!

So the next time my husband comes home and says what did you today? My proud reply will be “I helped change the world, launched a future, and shaped a soul today.  What did you do?”

Moms, let me hear from you. How are you redefining the mundane?

Recently, a pastor’s wife contacted me via Facebook.  She and her husband are about to enter their first Senior Pastor position.  She asked for words of wisdom on filling this new role.  So, this inspired me to write a series of blog posts to help pastor’s wives navigate their roles in the church.  This is Part 1, so here goes….

There can’t be anything more agonizing than pretending to be something you are not.  It takes so much time, energy, and effort to be someone other than you.  Yet, at one time or another every pastor’s wife feels like she cannot be herself.

But that is simply not true.  God creates each us with distinctive personalities, uniqueness and talents. Why would God create us in His image only to be pressed into a mold of someone else? The best gift you can give your local church is to simply Be You!

Don’t look behind you: Just because the former pastor’s wife did a certain thing doesn’t mean you have to. After all, she is gifted with a different set of talents and life experiences than you. Celebrating the impact of her ministry does not mean you have to fill her role. Give yourself permission to minister in a different way than she.

Glance beside you: We all have women who serve as contemporary role models.  Having inspiring women around us is important, but don’t fall into the trap that you have to look like her, act like her, or copy what she does.  I fall prey to the copycat syndrome.  I see so many amazing women of God accomplishing so much.  Their life seems exciting as they travel, speak and tweet about all the interesting people they meet. Meanwhile, I am at home struggling to potty train my two year old. Most of these women are in different seasons of life.  Their children are grown.  For me to copy their ministry would be disastrous.  I can learn from them.  They can inspire me.  But, I cannot copy who they are nor can I perform the assignments God has given them.

Look to God: God is a giving God.  One of His favorite things to do is to bless His creation. Not only does He bestow each of us with varying gifts, but He also gives us specific opportunities to utilize those gifts.  It would make no sense to have gifts but no way to use them.  Ask God to show you how to use your gifts.

By combining your gifts with ministry opportunities, you’ll be You!

So, Pastor’s Wives what’s the most freeing thing about just being YOU?

Women and their hair.  Need I say more?  Ladies, go ahead and exhale.  No judgments here. You may have straight hair and have always wanted the curly locks of Nicole Kidman.  Or maybe in a haste you tried an at home perm and that didn’t work out so well.

I have my own set of hair issues some of which were most unfortunate decisions on my part.

As a youngster, I opened up the pages of one of my mom’s magazines.  A one page article on how to obtain the Farrah Fawcett look caught my eye.

Ooohhh, I wanted that look.  I already had practice on styling the hair-do because I had a hand-me down Farrah Fawcett head doll.

You know you have hit the pinnacle of hair fashion when they don’t even make a doll of your whole body, but just your head!   You couldn’t even play dolls with her because she didn’t have arms and legs…literally it was just Farrah’s head.  All you could do hour after hour was style her hair.

The article had one major flaw; it made the bodacious claim that anyone could look like Farrah with four easy clips of the scissors.  I showed the article to my mom and begged her to get out her kitchen shears.  I must have been persuasive because in a matter of minutes I was sitting in front of the bathroom mirror and the magazine open on the bathroom counter.

Clips one and two, things were fine.  Clip three I began to wonder if this was a good idea.  And on the fourth and final clip I knew in my heart that things had gone wrong– terribly wrong.  I didn’t have Farrah’s gorgeous sweeping wings.  I had Danny Bonaduce’s hair!

So what happens when we make a decision and then later, sometimes instantly, regret the decision?  Now I rejoice, not that you were made sorry, but that your sorrow led to repentance.   For godly sorrow produces repentance leading to salvation, not to be regretted (2 Corinthians 7:9-10).  Regret can actually be useful in our lives.  It either strengthens our relationship with God or drives us further away from Him.

The Message says it like this, Distress that drives us to God…It turns us around. It gets us back in the way of salvation. We never regret that kind of pain. But those who let distress drive them away from God are full of regrets, end up on a deathbed of regrets.

Looking back on a bad decision allows us to see where we went wrong, where we strayed from God, or where we were blind to something.  Regret can drive us back to God.  It causes us to seek God’s face and His forgiveness.  When we run to God, He sets us back on our feet.  I run for dear life to God, I’ll never live to regret it.  Do what you do so well: get me out of this mess and up on my feet. (Ps. 71:1)

So whatever your regret, allow the sorrow and pain from that decision to redirect you back to God.  In the process, He’ll set you back on your feet and so you can take the next steps in life.

I am raising a cheerleader. Well, minus the short skirt and pom poms.

As a PW, I am always looking for ways to teach my daughter to love God and His church.  I love the local church and not just because my  husband is a pastor. The local church is dynamic and full of stories of people whose lives have been radically changed by the grace and mercy of God.  The local church is a place that offers hope and healing for the broken.  The local church is the Bride of Christ and He is returning one day for His bride!

I want my daughter to not just love Christ Fellowship because she grows up there, but I want her to love God’s global kingdom. I want her to be a cheerleader for The Bride.  She will catch a heart and vision for the local church, if she sees me model it.

Part of possessing a love for the church is understanding that other churches are not competition.  Area churches are our partners.  We want to pray for and support pastors in their ministries.

So, on Saturday we drove to area churches to pray for their Easter services.  We stood in their parking lots to ask God to bless their services.  It did my heart good to see my little toddler pray for area pastor’s by name!  Check out Bruce’s video blog at 1year2live about praying for area churches.

As a first time mom, I am learning  a lot of stuff on the fly.  So, I’d love to hear from you how are you teaching your kids to love God and the local church?

I LOVE my church! Every Sunday I have a front row seat to people being transformed by God’s eternal grace and mercy.  So on Good Friday leading up to Easter, I wanted to let you see why rebirth is a beautiful thing!

Jesus Christ died for all, that those who live should live no longer for themselves, but for Him who died for them and rose again.  Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.

If you are a regular around here, you know about the journey my husband and I are on.  If this is your first time to stop by, then you can check out our story at 1year2live.

(Thank You Darin Crofton Photography for the visual display of God’s handiwork!)

To be honest, I entered into this Easter season with some trepidation.  You see, I have a 2 year old.  As a first time mom I am learning lots of stuff on the fly, but I think veteran moms would agree with my estimation that toddlers and dye just aren’t a good combination.  At all.

So, big sigh of relief when Grammy and GrammyDaddy sent us the perfect Easter Egg kit.

Imagine my excitement to find the kit was dye optional! It was packed with all sorts of fun stickers, markers, and googley eyes by which to assemble the perfect Easter egg. No time was wasted tearing into the box!

We spent the afternoon coloring the eggs to perfection…

…and meticulously placing stickers on each egg.

Then as quick as the decorating began, it ended with the realization that eggs are for eating!

The concept that Easter eggs are for decoration is a hard thing to grasp.  With great reluctance, the eggs were placed back into their bowl.

In the end, Gwendolyn had a blast.  Our Easter eggs were created with lots of fun and imagination and most importantly, not one drop of dye! Thanks Grammy and GrammyDaddy for the perfect gift.

What Easter traditions do you share with your family?

So lately my friend, Angie, over at Wife in Ministry has been turning out some really great posts.  I met Angie a couple of months ago and we just clicked.  She is crazy talented and has a background as a clinical social worker.  Over a year ago, God completely interrupted her life as a pastor’s wife of a small church in Arkansas. Rick Warren and Saddleback Church came calling.  They loaded up the moving van and before she knew it, her life and ministry had been transplanted to sunny SoCal.  The transition was not without its bumps.

She is married to Brandon who serves as one of the Pastors at Saddleback Church.  Together they have hve two adorable kids, Ella and Samuel.

If you’ve ever experienced an interruption in life then you will benefit from her post.  She graciously allowed me to re-post it here.

A few weeks ago I had the amazing privilidge to share part of my story with Pastor’s wives at the Radicalis conference at Saddleback Church. Here is a portion of what I shared:

Change is inevitable. It’s going to happen. If we’re alive and breathing on this planet than we know we will experience change in some shape and fashion. Why does God bring change into our lives? I believe he brings about change to grow us, to draw us closer to Him, to bring Him glory. However, while change is unavoidable, spiritual growth through change is a choice.

When we moved from our home in Arkansas to Southern California, my sweet family experienced a heavy dose of change. I struggled. I frequently found myself in tears, or angry and frustrated. When these feelings would come-I had to retreat. One of the problems in living in a small condo with no yard (with a newborn baby) is there isn’t anywhere to go. So I found myself getting as far away as possible in my little home – on the bathroom floor. Just me… sitting there, facing our 1970′s model toilet with it’s mahogany seat.  Just me and the Father and all of my feelings of fear, sadness, and entitlement.

While I was struggling with the questions of “why are we here?” and “what’s my role?”, God very clearly began to teach me three big lessons. It was critical that I began to move through this change, to grow through this change and eventually get up off the bathroom floor. Here’s what I learned:

Trust Me

God wanted me to trust Him. I had put all of my “trust” in my husband. I would say to myself, “he’s God’s man” and “I trust Him to know God’s will for our lives.” But I was really not trusting anyone. When things got tough or didn’t work out the way I had planned, I had someone to blame. I could point the finger at my husband and say “I trusted you,” which wasn’t God’s plan. He desired for me to trust Him. He could handle my questions and fears.  He could reassure me the way only a loving Father could with His peace. Psalm 9:10 say’s, “Those who know your name will trust in you. For you Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you.”

Watch Me

In change, we worry about “what’s next?” We worry about finances, relationships, and health. I would often say to my husband, “How is this going to work?” I couldn’t see the answers, and he had no answers. And the whole time I’m looking for answers, God is saying “Watch me.” Ephesians 3:20 says, “God can do anything you know-far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, His spirit deeply and gently within us.”

Know Me

During the initial stages of this transition, much of my old identity was stripped away: the friends that occupied my time; the responsibilities I had in our previous church; and a full-time job in a professional career. God was removing all the “noise” from my life so that I would see him and knowhim. He was pursuing me with His love. “Be still and know that I am God”. (Psalms 46:10)

So…what is God teaching you through change? I’d really love to know!

One of my favorite things about Florida is the Strawberry Festival! I love strawberries and so naturally it makes sense to love any town that celebrates the strawberry.  Plant City, Florida does just that.  This year we decided to pay Parkesdale Farms a visit.  Home of the Jumbo Strawberry Shortcake!

This place is quintessential Florida.  And, that’s what makes Parkesdale Farms so endearing.  No state of the art theme parks.  No fancy white table clothes.

They do two things and two things only.  Strawberry shortcake and strawberry milkshakes.

Both are equally delicious!

Stepping into the dining area is to step back in time.  Nothing but old-school tradition here.

You would never know it from the road, but it is literally like a secret garden with picnic tables surrounded by trees, plants and orchids.  Plus a few, okay a lot, of kitschy strawberry themed decorations–most of which happen to be red tinsel.

Think roadside fruitstand meets the movie Cocoon.

There is nothing like it.  It is a strawberry wonder land.  Complete with a paper mache strawberry throne.  I mean who could resist being Strawberry Royalty?

The crowns might be a bit too big, but who cares when your throne is big and red!

And every Queen needs a King.

The Jumbo Strawberry Shortcake is world famous.  It must have taken the poor guy from Algeria days to get here.  All the more reason why I am thankful that Plant City is in my back yard!

So if you are ever in Florida in March, swing by Plant City for a true celebration of the strawberry.