Topic Tuesday: Colour Trends

It’s been so long since I’ve done a topic Tuesday!  I’m not sure why.  I always love everyone’s thoughts that come in.  You guys have a lot of smarts in those heads of yours and today I’m enlisting it.

I need your help.

It’s a deep one today, people.  Put those deep thinking caps on.

Ready?  I don’t know what colour to paint this little beauty!

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The colouring in this photo is a bit off, but I know you can see beyond that.  I’m not sure where I’m putting it just yet but every wall in our house is white, except for the living room which is gray.  (pictured)

Most of the house has busy wood floors so too many wood pieces and it gets overwhelming, y’know, with the too many shades of wood.  Add in cupboards and our table and that’s about all I can handle.  So little numbers like this need a coat of something lovely.  But I’m unsure if I should do something that pops or something subtle.  What trends are you seeing that you love right now?

Here are some colours I’m thinking about.  What’s your fave?  Or should I do something completely different?


The yellow is my current fave!  But I think an orangish-red could look pretty great too.  Plus I’ll put a new drawer pull on to completely update it!

Okay go!  Leave your comment!  What would you do?!

I’m Not the Mom I Expected I Would be

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So, I’m not the mom I expected I would be.

No, I was going to be the cool mom.  The one who laughed endlessly, had nerf gun wars all the time, laid in the grass and daydreamed.  The one who kept her cool and came up with genius analogies and always used the words, “It’s going to be alright,” before tousling her kids hair.

Turns out I’m not this mom at all.

I could make excuses about tired and work and so. much. to. do.  But we all have that, no?

So I won’t.  What I will admit is that I get angry.  Angry when 14 minutes after cleaning the entire house, there are things – just things, everywhere.  Angry when I have to explain (again) the rules of the house and how it’s suppose to shake down.  Angry when I say something very clearly and it is completely disregarded.

These things didn’t anger me when my kids were toddlers, or even elementary school age.  They were little and I was their teacher and trainer and this is just what being a mom was.

But they’re all big now.  Two of them are taller than I am.  They (technically) can all follow more than 3 steps of instruction in a row.  They’ve known the rules for a long time and yet,  most days we end up in chaos with backpacks and shoes and cups of water and dishes everywhere.  Most days I look at someone and give them a direct instruction and it doesn’t happen.  I am perpetually frustrated and what comes out is snappy.  Short.  Unkind.  Let’s just take yesterday for example…


I was seething.

I couldn’t even look at him I was so mad.

I’m going to hope you get it, this feeling.  That as a parent you understand how completely maddening it can be when your kid does something inexcusable.  When his actions aren’t anything you’ve ever taught.  When his attitude about this situation isn’t responsible enough.  When he’s not willing to own the mistake but sluff it off.  Make excuses.  Blame shift with the best of ’em.

I had to walk away because his words were making it worse.  I knew this wasn’t the time to talk.  Anything that came out of my mouth at this point would be rant, not talk.  I knew this wasn’t the time to work it out.  Working it out right now would be me pointing out all of the ways he did wrong, which would work exactly nothing out.  I knew this wasn’t the time for any of it.

Instead I gave myself a time out.  I sent me to my room.

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This was supposed to be my retreat.  My place to reason out all the ways that I’m right and he’s wrong.  To get to that parental place of, “I’m calm but this is still so much less than awesome and you need to know it!”  Basically, to shame, probably place guilt and bring him to the place of  sincerely looking at me to apologize, hug me and maybe even shed a tear.  That’s what he needed to do.  I just needed to find the words to get him there, regardless of what those words were.

Of course, what greeted me instead was a heap of laundry piled atop my bed.  4 loads deep.

I sighed the sigh and felt sorry for myself because first that and now this.  I wanted to be the victim.

Huffing and puffing I kneeled beside the bed and grabbed a t-shirt.  Fold.  Stack.  A pair of jeans.  Fold.  Stack.  A sweater and pajama pants.  Fold.  Stack.

I laughed out loud when I noticed my posture.  Really, God?  I storm out of the room and you bring me in here and you get me on my knees?  Well, played.

I’m not one to fight it.  As long as i’m here…

I began to pray.  First angry like.  God why?  God help him.  God teach him.

God help him to grow up.

God help him to learn to take more responsibility, to outgrow that cavalier attitude and simply grow up.

God humble him.

The fumes, they lessened just a bit. Isn’t this so often what prayer does?   Dismounts you.  Takes you off your high horse and places you in a posture of humility.  Makes you see that whatever position you were taking in anger is ridiculous before a Holy God?  Yeah, he brought me to that place.  He brought me there and he didn’t leave me, but rather showed me what exactly I was asking for.

God help him to grown up.

Grow up?  Like, what you mean is that you want him to know all the things you want him to know, right now?  That’s called being an adult. And adults move away.  Out of their mama’s houses.  Because they know all of the things and don’t need to be discipled anymore.  

Okay, maybe not grow all the way up.

God help him to outgrow that cavalier attitude, to understand the importance of things.

Oh, you mean the attitude that doesn’t take life too seriously?  The one that doesn’t ever sweat the small stuff?  The one who has the perfect timing to make everyone roll on the ground laughing?  The one who glides through life not caring what people think of him because he gets that life’s too short for that and he knows who he was created to be without trying to fit in?  That attitude?  The one you love about him?  

Okay, maybe don’t change that attitude so much.

God humble him.

Do you mean, teach him humility or make him feel shame?  Do you mean, help him to see his errors or help him to see that your ways are always right?  Do you mean make him grovel?  Is that what you want?  You do remember how I’ve humbled people before, right?  Take away their kingdoms, their life achievements, all manner of pride, and then place them in a field to graze as the animals did.    Are you asking me to turn him into a cow?  Do you believe he has no regard for me and so I must strip him of all and bring him to a place of utter desperation?  Or do you just want him to do things your way?

Okay, so I don’t actually mean strip him of all things.  Not that kind of humble.

And that was all I needed.  I saw before me that I was trying to make my boy into a human that he isn’t.  Maybe one that fit my needs a little better.  Stroked my ego a little more.  Made me feel really good about my parenting skills.

I saw that this wasn’t really about my boy at all but about me.

I wanted my son to behave like a respectable 34 year old.  I wanted him to know how to take ownership, admit wrong, apologize and make it right in ways that I still struggle with at 38.

In short, I was frustrated that he’s not perfect.  Frustrated that I haven’t taught him perfection.  Cause, y’know, I know all about perfection.  *cough, cough*

I’ve found myself in a cycle of grace-less parenting.  Of wanting more from my children than they are equipped to give just now and it’s leaving me at my wits end.

I know I can’t change this on my own.  I do know that over and over again, God shows me grace undeserving, patience unending, and relentless love.  Even when I frustrate him.

I’m asking him to help me see this today and everyday and impart the same to my teens.  To look beyond myself, my abilities and even my wants and be the mother – no, the person – He calls me to be.

It’s a good things there’s  endless laundry because it seems that being on my knees is exactly where I need to be.

Table and Marriage

In our home, life happens around the table. It’s marked with permanent circles from hot coffee cups and large glasses of water that dribbled over the side. It’s got paint stains from that time we thought our boys should try model building. It’s got grooves permanently etched from baguettes being sliced without a cutting board.

The marks and stains show life lived here, around our table. They tell a tale of friends and family. They hold memories of both laughter and tears. The deep grooves show the tiresome wear of time and the whitish circles show heat pressed in that spot far too long, leaving it’s mark. We’ve never worried much about the look of the table top. We’re okay with it’s message, saying loud and clear that a family lives here. We’re okay with the honesty revealed about the time we weren’t careful enough and kind of messed up.

If I were talk about marriage, about our marriage,  I’d say that it looks something like our table top.

***I’m over at Family Life today talking marriage and how it resembles our kitchen table.  Read more….

When life feels too heavy, I’ll be in the kitchen.

Has life got you down just now?  Feeling a bit tired maybe, a bit lonely, a bit of despair?  Have you felt a bit bone weary,  heart weary, soul weary?  I know.  Me too.

And while it’s nothing major, it’s everything major.  Because life is a big deal and it deals us a hand and we can choose which cards we’re gonna play but sometimes we’re left just staring at those cards thinking we’re ready to fold.

I know we can look across the world and see tragedy, see hungry bellies and earthquakes and call all we have going on here, “first world problems.”  We can dismiss each others hardships with these few glib words and they’re partly true.  Yes, we have first world problems.  But it’s only because we live in the first world!  And while I appreciate the fact that we should watch what we get whiny about, I think more often than not, we need to be careful.  Because first world problems are still problems.  And hard days are still hard days.  And loneliness is still loneliness, and weariness still so hard no matter where you live.  We’re told to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15) not dismiss the weepers because they don’t really have it as bad as that guy.

And some weeks, let’s admit it, shall we, it just feels that bad.

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I’ve had dental issues for a few weeks now and while I’m thankful that I can see a dentist for the pain and that he can help it still just hurts.  For days and days and even more days now there’s been the dull roar of pain, some from the problem and some from the solution.  Interesting how we need to hurt in order to heal, huh?

So while my life isn’t near over and I can’t even come close to calling it a tragedy, when you hurt endlessly for a few weeks it can start to grate on you.  Wear you down.  Make you want to drop the kids off at school and come back home only to crawl into bed and hide under the covers.  Make you want to cook eggs for dinner again.  Make you say no to the coffee dates and the after school fun.

Just me?

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But it’s not just personal.  The people around me lately have been dealing with so much.  There’s been death, so much death, heartbreak, mental illness, failing marriages.  There’s been new babies that haven’t made it home from the hospital just yet and teens whose decisions have been less than wise.  There’s been young moms left alone to raise their babies because husbands have been unfaithful or cancer has taken over their body or they just decided they didn’t want to anymore.

When all of this hurt feels like too much to handle, feels like it’s bearing down on my shoulders just a bit too heavy and I can’t find my footing and my smile feels fake, it’s not just a first world problem.  When I don’t know what to do but get on my knees and plead with God for it all to stop, for it all to turn out the way I want it to, for Him to just make all things right, right now, it’s not a first world problem.

It’s my people.  It’s my tribe.  It’s real and it hurts and I simply want to weep with the weeping.

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When life finds me at this place of feeling weak and hurting, when I want to pull the blinds closed tight and block out the sound of the chirping birds because if feels like they’re taunting me.  When I want to lay my head on the pillow and not even think about having to pick it up again.  When the tears flow silently and the prayers jump all helter skelter from one thought to the next, that’s when you’ll find me in the kitchen.

When it all feels like too much the bottom line is, I need home.  Home is hands being kept busy to avoid all-out despair.  Home is fingers kneading the dough and the smells that will greet my family when they walk in the door.

My heart becomes centered  when I take away the pity that comes with hiding and when I get with the business of stirring and sifting.  My prayers become focused when I take my gaze off of this world and I intercede on behalf of all of the need all while I simply knead.

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Somehow things become right again when I pick up my purpose of caring for my family well, when I pursue my passion of home and all that entails, when I pray and I plead, not as one without hope but as one who is here at this time and in this place for a specific reason.  Mixing and measuring become my souls work for the day.

My worship becomes unwavering when I pull the pans out of the oven.  I can hold fast to the plans and promises of God when I hold fast to the place that he’s called me to be.  I can’t see all that he’s doing or why it has to be this way but I can know as certainly as these things being gobbled back with delight that he is good.

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Find your place.  Find your passion.  Find your purpose and there you will find peace.  My place is home.

6 choices our family made so that I could be a stay at home mom.

There were a few things we always hoped for in our family life.  The first was that I would be able to stay home with our brood until they were all in school.  Thankfully, the Lord blessed us with that option and we are so grateful as we realize it’s not an option for everyone.

However, we’ve also realized that there are things that you can choose to do to make it more of an option should it be a priority for your family too.  It might mean some sacrifice, but for us, it was well worth it.

So here are the top 6 things that made it possible for us to have one parent stay at home with the kids.

No Vacations

Let’s face it, vacations are costly even when your kids are little.  Even if you’re not flying anywhere there is a cost involved with road trip travel.  Gas and hotels or even camp sites, should you decide to go that route, can add up.  Never mind the cost of all the equipment needed to cook and sleep and eat in the great outdoors.  When it comes to hotels, with a family of 5 you need to book a suite or get two rooms, both of which are ridiculous when your kids are little, but it’s still the case.  So it’s difficult to find a cheap and easy way to vacation.  We simply chose not to dwell here. Not to worry about vacations or the lack thereof and to simply know that for us, having me home day-to-day with our children, was more important than travel memories at a young age.

We opt for free adventurous day trips!

We opt for free adventurous day trips!

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No Eating Out

Restaurants hold the record for one of the biggest percentage of mark-ups on what you’re actually getting.  Think about it, paying $12 for some eggs with some vegetables mixed in and 2 pieces of bread (called toast) is crazy!  Or $15 for some noodles with tomato sauce on top?  Just as ridiculous.

Of course, the beauty of eating out is that you don’t have to do dishes, or grocery shop, or cook!  (swoon) But the price for all of that is high.  Our family of 5 could not eat out without spending a small fortune, even when the kids were little.  We learned very early on (like once they weren’t just eating off our plate anymore but needed a meal of their own!) that it was more economical to let go of eating out and just cook at home.  Besides, I learned that most of the family friendly restaurants don’t make amazing food and I’d have preferred to make my own spaghetti sauce.  It just tastes better!

We opt for homemade food  which is cheaper and often tastes better!

We opt for homemade food which is cheaper and often tastes better!

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No Pre-packaged Snacks or Juice Boxes

I don’t know if I’m just a frugal shopper but when I see the price of those little individual serving packs of fishy crackers or craisins, I just about die.  Sure, it’s easy to grab a pack and throw in a bag for a trip to the park, but the mark up, not to mention all the extra packaging and the toll that takes on our landfill, was never worth it to me.  Being home with the kids meant I had time to make and bake our own snacks and we could forgo the very expensive option of prepackaged granola bars or pudding cups.  I made everything from cookies to granola bars to cereal, throw in fruit and veggies, and there was never any need for the packaged snacks.  Same thing with juice boxes.  I simply bought each of the kids a great reusable water bottle and that’s what they got.  They still use them and take water to school every day.  They just don’t know any different and the cost savings is huge!

Homemade pizza is delicious and nutritious in a lunch and a fraction of the price of  a pre-packaged lunchable!

Homemade pizza is delicious and nutritious in a lunch and a fraction of the price of a pre-packaged lunchable!

Purchase Clothes that Last and/or Buy Second-hand

Having 3 boys I knew that we would be working the hand-me-down system like pro’s but I quickly found out that certain cheaper options would barely make it to boy number 2, never mind boy number 3.  When I figured out the cost for buying cheap and new for each boy and weighed it against buying a bit more expensive and it lasting through all three, the choice was clear.  Paying a bit more to start with is the better choice for most things like jeans, hoodies or sweaters, good running shoes, even pyjamas.  I go cheaper on things like white tees because they don’t stand a chance in the boy world but other clothes are worth the investment and the savings in the long run are astronomical.  Even now, all jeans, tees and hoodies and most shoes get past along in our home and again, the earth thanks us for this.

I did a lot of second hand shopping when the kids were young too!  Winter coats or snow pants?  Less than a quarter of the price.  Jeans and sweaters?  Same thing.  Plus, I could find good name brands that I would never buy brand new and they’d still be cheaper than the fall apart versions.  Being home allowed me the time to do this, and doing this allowed me to be home.  Win – win!

Cozy doesn't have to be about the right colours but about the love.

Cozy doesn’t have to be about the right colours but about the love.

Don’t Worry About House Decor

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time you know that I’m a fan of making a house a home and having it be cozy and lovely for your fam.  An oasis or haven of sorts, even.  However, it can come at a huge cost, especially if you want to stay up on the latest trends in home decor.  I decided early on that I just had to let it go.  Our home would be cozy and lovely because of the blankets and books and time spent snuggled up on the couch, not because I had the coolest sofa or the latest cookware.  It helped when I understood the cost benefit.  I could go to work and put my kids in childcare and have a gorgeously decorated home OR I could be home with my kids and we could paint together in the back yard and laugh all day long and really make our house a home simply by living in it.  I knew the latter was what our goal was and so we purposed to that end.


Family games of sport over expensive teams or clubs!

Family games of sport over expensive teams or clubs!

Limit Out of the House Activities

We all know that swimming lessons can start as young as a few months old and the cycle just keeps going.  You can enrol your baby in music classes and baby gyms and early, early preschool.  From there the list can get crazy with a billion types of toddler sports or art or music classes.  Once they start school it carries on and by the time they get to grade 4 ish they can’t just play baseball but they need to play baseball plus be in pitching class twice a week and hit the batting cages twice a week and cross training and a million other things if they want to keep up.  We knew that this was not how we wanted to live our life, whirling after our kids to a bunch of different events, all of which cost cash.  Of course, we also didn’t want to deprive our kids of things they found fun or educational but there had to be a limit.  The one we set for our kids once they reached school age was one activity at a time.  (of course this is times how many children you have so that still meant 3 activities for our family at any given time)  If you were in swimming then you forgo baseball.  If you are in baseball, that’s it, no pitching academy.  This saved us loads of money and gave us the opportunity to spend our evenings and weekends as a family instead of in a rink.  We have never regretted this choice for one second and we find the things we did when they were little as a family, we still do.  They want all of us to head down to the field and play a family game of soccer or baseball or shoot hoops all together on a Sunday afternoon.  It’s how we prefer it to be.

Also, activities like waterslides or aquarium trips can seriously add up for a family of 5  for just one afternoon!  Instead of doing these types of things regularly we asked for them as gifts from grandparents.  Even sports gear or musical equipment became Christmas gifts instead of just being expected.  This helped save us loads of money!

All of these very intentional choices helped make our family who we are today and allowed me to be a stay-at-home mom, just the way we planned in our marriage counselling that we wanted our family to be.  None of them actually felt like sacrifices at the time, but rather alternative ways of doing things to keep our life simple!  In fact, many of them remain in our lives as normal, even now, some 15 years later!

How Our Family Traditions Tell of Christ’s Love

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It didn’t really start until we brought home our first little baby.  That moment that we carried him in his little car seat, fast asleep, into our apartment for the first time.  We crossed the threshold of our home and somehow we knew that everything from this point on was going to be different.

We plunked that car seat in the middle of the living room and looked at each other with eyes to say, “Now what?”

Well, the now what was simple in that moment.  He was sleeping so leave him right there and let’s get at making some lunch, but the moment he peeped and we lifted him out we knew life had changed.  Our home, for some reason, felt more like a family home than just a couple’s.  We knew now that the things we did were not just affecting ourselves but the life of this little squishy human.  We knew that things were about to get real!

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It was at this moment that everything we did became so much more intentional.  Why do we eat dinner at this time?  What sort of food are we bringing into the house?  When do we open presents for Christmas?  Why do we light candles leading up to Easter?  Do we hang stockings and take pictures with Santa or do we not?  How do we celebrate first birthdays?  And baptism?  And all the days in between?

It was at this point in our life that we realized that we wanted family traditions.  We wanted our kids to come to expect certain things at various points each year.  We wanted them to be able to anticipate them and get excited about them and cultivate an understanding of why we do the things we do and we wanted each of these why’s to point back to Christ, the creator of the first traditions.

We see time and time again that he tells his people to remember.  Remember the sabbath, remember passover, do these things in remembrance, set up the stones so that you may remember.  These are all so much more than just remembering the events though!  These are all pointers to what Christ has done.  We’re told to remember because!  Because he is good and because he has saved and because he is faithful and because he wants our good.

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He also anticipates the why’s of tradition.  He tells us in Joshua 4 that the people should set up a stone memorial, of sorts, so that, “when our children ask in time to come, ‘What do these stones mean?’ then you shall tell them…”

We knew, in our family, that we wanted these same sort of pointers to Christ and to his work in our lives.  We wanted to set up our special days and holidays and traditions so that when our children ask why we light the candles or play this music or eat this food, we can share with them the history of these things and God’s work in our life and they can all point to his saving grace.  It was no longer enough to just have a little pile of rocks on the bathroom counter, when they asked why (and they will ask why, because kids!!), we could tell them that each one was from a place that we have lived and we can talk of how God moved us from one location to another by his leading and with his love.  These rocks are no longer just rocks, but traditions and a story of our family history that is rooted in Gods work in our life.

About ten years ago now, I came across Noel Piper’s book, Treasuring God in our Traditions, and I have been endlessly thankful for it.  Never before and never again since have I found a book that talks so meaningfully about the traditions we have in our families and how and why to pass them on to the next generation.

“Memory is the mother of traditions. Almost all of our special days are celebrated because they remind us of something significant in the past. A birthday looks back to a birth. An anniversary looks back to a wedding. A funeral looks back on a life. Christmas looks back on Jesus’ birth. Easter looks back to his death and resurrec- tion. Our celebrations are occasions to look back and remember what God has done in the world and in our lives.

At the same time, we are also looking forward. The preparations we make and the eagerness we feel as we look ahead toward a special day are a foretaste of the emotions we will experience when we encounter God in a special way as we celebrate. And that encounter with God is, in turn, a foreshadowing of the great day when we will see him face to face.”  Noel Piper

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I was reminded of this book yesterday as we celebrated our Mother’s Day traditions.  My boys do the lovely, yet typical, coffee delivered in bed but there is so much more.  Each year my husband takes at least one boy to the flower shop and they choose specifically what they want for me.  They never buy prearranged bouquets from the grocery store but they march right into the cooler and they pull what they want and compile it and it always, ALWAYS has an explanation.  This year their were three brilliantly coloured flowers amidst the rest, the same type of flower but each with its own vibrant colour, ‘one for each of us boys,’ I was told.

Yes.  Each one similar, created in the image of God their Father, but each so different, vibrantly coloured, unique in their gifting and abilities, much the same, but oh-so-different.

My flowers are always meaningful because of the tradition of them picking and choosing for various reasons and explaining to me the why’s of their thoughts.

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Our Mother’s Day afternoons are spent, each year, at the garden store.  We head there straight after getting out of church and the boys make a run for the animals immediately upon arrival.  The boys pet and feed the goats and the sheep and marvel at the little babies that still have wobbly legs.  Then we wander the aisles and aisles of flowers, each one picking what they think is pretty or unique and will add to the beauty of our pots and flower beds.

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In the afternoon, we all get our hands dirty.  We grab small shovels and potting soil and we dig with our hands and we arrange and create as we gently press these new beauties into the earth.  We’re careful with the roots and we water them just a bit and then we stand back and marvel at the work of our hands.

Why?  Not just because it’s what we always do but because our traditions have a story.  A story of the creativeness of our God and how that is reflected in nature.  A story of surrounding ourselves with the beauty He has given so we might see him in it and be thankful each time we step out on our deck.  A story of life and nurturing and growth as we gently place the tiny flowers into the garden.  A story of motherhood and the responsibility it is as we tend to the roots, care for them daily, ensuring they have a solid foundation and then watch them bloom and grow.

Our Mother’s Day traditions tell a story of how gentle Christ is with us and how he tends to our souls and is patient with us as we grow.  How the growth sometimes seems so small that we don’t even notice until one day the pots are bursting with flowers and we see he has done a good work in us.

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Our traditions reflect back on what he has done and look forward with anticipation to what he will do.  It’s why I love them.  It’s why these days are special.  Because its more than just flowers and cards, it all points to Christ.

You can read Noel Piper’s book for free online at the Desiring God website.  I couldn’t manage to get a link to work but if you enter this into your google search you should find it!

**Remember –  I started a Never Static Facebook page!  If you want to keep up on all my posts through that medium, head on over to the  Facebook page and Like it to get notice of new posts over there!  Or, as always, you can subscribe and receive them via email.  Just follow that link over on the right side bar!

The Journey

As many of you know, this blog is simply a tale of one humans journey.  Just a normal human: wife, mother, daughter, thick cream in her coffee lover.  

The list could go on (and on and on) but the bottom line is that I started this blog many moons ago simply because I’m a girl who processes by writing. I’ve had journals my entire life and this was simply another form of that!

But also? I had this desire to display a normal girls journey. A girl who doesn’t have all the answers and who isn’t doing anything grand by the worlds terms. A girl who grows by asking questions and wrestling with the answers and is okay with admitting she was wrong (still working on that one) and changes her mind.

I chose Never Static as my title because  that’s what life is to me. Always moving, constantly changing, each of us affecting each other, taking two steps forward and three back. 

And while this blog has evolved over time my heart behind it has always remained.

The heart of wanting to share my journey so that others can see that there is so much more behind this seemingly mundane life. That stirring spaghetti sauce is kingdom work. That it’s okay to ask questions that it seems like you shouldn’t be asking and it’s okay to make a stance and then change your mind. It’s okay to admit that none of us are nailing this life. It’s a journey and I wanted to show just that. 

Looking back in my archives I can see how much I’ve changed. How life has handed me new things and brought different people around me and how they’ve affected each leg of my story.

This week, as I scrolled back through some of my old Mothers Day posts I could see the progression of my thoughts from year to year and how God has been shaping me and changing me, even in the little things.

Here’s a few to read that will show you my journey through celebrating Mothers Day. My early expectations, how we learned to communicate better and learning to give up the crazy and just enjoy another day alive on earth.

How I learned to communicate a bit better before special days and how that changed things so much

Moving on from communicating to realizing who I am in Christ and how that should affect Mothers Day

Some photos of our Mothers Day from 2009 when my boys were mere babies!!

And some systems we’ve developed for gift buying! 

See? I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve grown and changed. And hopefully a few years from now I can look back and say the same!