Discipline

Ah, that 10-letter word that no one really wants to hear!

This year for Lent, my son decided to give up video games and I was so incredibly stunned when he shared his decision with me. Stunned...and proud.

Giving something up, isn't easy. Especially when it's a pretty big part of your life. Nick giving video games up would be the equivalent to me giving up...Diet Coke. But come on, let's get realistic! :) Actually, at $7.48/24 pack plus the $1.20 deposit you pay, giving up Diet Coke is sounding a little bit more appealing! (for me, the addict)

Anyway...back to my son and his video games. Ever since the release of Call of Duty Modern Warfare2, Nick has been glued to the television every free second he has. And then you factor in the concept of having the opportunity to chat live with his friends and family? Let's just say that his attention is entirely focused on one thing. ...getting the most "kills."

When he explained to me his decision to give it up for Lent, I thought there was no way. None! I also thought about how wonderful it would be to have his attention "back" as well as my room! (Unfortunately between his room and mine there is only one Internet connection. Lucky me!)

Somewhere along the road between what I was taught and what they are teaching now in regards to Lent, has changed. Apparently, it is acceptable during this season to do/eat whatever you gave up on Sundays in remembrance of what Christ did for us. And we are to reflect on that as we partake in whatever it is that we have given up. ...Somehow I find it hard to believe that as Nick is shooting a "cyber-soldier" he's praising Jesus or thanking God. But I have allowed him to play his XBox Live on Sundays.

However, yesterday...there was a slight problem. As he was interacting with friends he made the decision to shut the rest of the world (namely his mom) ...out. When asked to help his grandpa put a desk together, it was instant attitude. A little while later, something else came up that I questioned him about and there was no response from him whatsoever. Oh wait, there was something. It was the "eye roll, hands on the sides, turn the head, and completely ignore response." Fine. I'm the one in control..."It's ok, Nick. You're done playing that game for the day." I grabbed it out of the XBox, placed it in its cover, and found a good spot for it to sit. Maybe until next Sunday, maybe until Easter. I haven't decided yet.

I had to work last night at the church and the following is the text message conversation Nick and I had...

N: Whatd yOu do with call of duty
M: Hid it

N: Where

pause....

N: I want to play woth my friends

M: You can wait

N: No theyll be off

N: Come on

N: Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please tell me where it is

N: Hello

M: Nick, I'm working and you're making this situation worse. You can wait until I get home or you can wait until Easter

I'm assuming he caught my drift, because that was the end of the text conversation.

I have learned that the only thing worse than being disciplined...is having to discipline. Especially your child. I take no pleasure in telling him no, regardless of how empowering it is to sometimes play the "I'm the parent" card. It's not fun. But sometimes you just have to do it.

Maybe some of you can see where this is going, but as I was at the church last night and all of this had unfolded, I was reminded of how similar the reactions are when our God, disciplines us.

Dare we ever roll our eyes? (maybe not literally) Hands on our hips? What about the "I'm just going to look away." Does it ever change things? Maybe for a "soft" mother who can't bear to tell her child no. But for God? If we stand there, batting our eyelashes with a puppy dog face, uttering the words "please" fifteen times, do we expect Him to just give in? And how many times do we plea with him over and over, and in his silence say, "hello?"

Discipline isn't easy. But discipline is necessary. Embrace it. It's usually for your best interest.

The Rusty Toy Truck

Last Saturday I spent part of the afternoon with my son and nephew in tow. We took a little trip into Marysville, parked the car, grabbed some ice cream and took a little stroll.

We stopped into one of the many antique shops and looked around. I enjoy antiques. The last time I visited this particular store was probably about seven years ago when my grandparents came to visit. As we walked down the street, a memory consumed me. It was of my grandpa running as fast as his 80 year old legs would take him, down the street with my son. I remember Nick laughing and I remember the joy I felt as I watched the two of them. Nick in his youth and my grandpa displaying his in his own glory.

It is an amazingly sweet memory for me to have.

As I was looking around I couldn't help but think of how each item must have had its own little memory. The history behind each article of clothing, each picture on the wall, every dish that sat in the display case, every toy that lined the shelves. If only antiques could talk...

We stood and browsed through the toys. My nephew was checking out a car, Nick picked up a toy gun, and I had my eyes fixed on this rusty old metal Tonka pickup truck. It was only $21 and I'm sure nothing extremely "special," but I fell in love with it.

We walked through the rest of the store yet I couldn't get my thoughts off of that truck. Stopping back at the counter, I picked it up again, studied it, and then sat it back down.

We walked out of the store and to the river bottoms. The entire time I could not get that silly little truck out of my mind. Why did it fascinate me so?

I didn't go back and purchase it, although the thought crossed my mind (and still does). Who would have thought that a 1960-something toy pick-up truck would have such an impact on me and consume my thoughts?

I think that we all have our own little things that "fixate" us. This particular item that I found stirred up some emotions that are healthy for me to think about.

My life has a lot in common with that toy truck. Throughout my years I have placed it in the hands of people that have knowingly and unknowingly abused me. There have been times when I've felt left in the rain and my exterior has rusted as a result. I've had my share of moments in which I have felt abandoned and alone. Knocked around, run through the mud, and lost in the shuffle.

However, I am blessed to have also been nurtured and cared for. I have watched my life recover from being left in the rain, have (figuratively) gone through a "detail" and invested in a new paint job, so to speak. I cherish the moments that I have alone and rather than feeling abandoned I feel grateful. The times I feel knocked around, run through the mud and lost in the shuffle are generally moments in which I consider reality checks. Subtle hints to shift my focus on things that truly matter rather than dwelling on that which I can't control.

My life doesn't carry a price tag, such as that little truck. And unlike the joy of a little child unwrapping his gift and eventually losing interest in it, leaving it outside to be forgotten; I am loved, just as I am, forever.

No one will be able to stand up against you all the days of your life. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you.

-Joshua 1:5

When the Heart Dances

Have you ever had one of those moments when you've felt as though your heart has literally danced inside your chest? Every once in a while I have those moments.

...catching a glimpse of a beautiful sunset
...listening to my son giggle (yes, he still giggles)
...talking with an old friend


This week I have had some pretty incredible things happen.On Monday I was able to chat with a mom in the nursery at church. A fairly ordinary conversation that generated a ton of "hope." And hope...makes my heart dance more than anything!

That same night, I discovered that a family of four children from a recovery group live right around the corner from me. Cutest kids in the world. Last night as I was pulling around the corner to my house I noticed they were outside playing. I slowly drove past them, waved and continued on. I no sooner step out of my car and there was the second oldest boy, standing behind my car on his scooter with this huge grin as if to welcome me home. He hugged me and we chatted for a bit. Within moments of being inside the house I looked out the window to see three of the four standing out front, so I immediately rushed out to love on the others.

A few months ago, a co-worker of mine and his girlfriend were expecting the birth of their first child. I was excited for them and it was amazing to see and hear the excitement as they prepared for her arrival.

After being absent from work for a few days and not hearing from him, my joy of anticipating the news turned to fear that something was wrong. Finally, three days later a phone call came in. But rather than the tone of happiness coming from a first time father, I heard something else and it was more than mere exhaustion.

Delora Sunshine is what they named her and he gave me a summary of her weight and length, minor details of the labor and then as his voice began to crack, he shared the news of her being born with Down Syndrome. I sat on the phone with him for at least a half an hour as he worked through his emotions.

Throughout the pregnancy there was no indication that there was anything wrong with the baby. So now along with the newness of parenting, they instantly had to adjust to being the parents of a child with special needs.

He has an amazing heart and is a very wise individual. Immediately I knew, that if anyone could cope with this...it would be the two of them.

How can something so sad make my heart dance? Read on...

During the phone conversation with my co-worker, he had shared the first 24 hours of their journey with me. They questioned whether or not they were going to keep her or give her up for adoption. In his next breath he said, "But how messed up would that be?" He continued and said, "She chose us." Now at this point in time, I thought, 'Ok...you're getting close but I'm not yet going to bring up the fact that I believe God chose her for you.' The conversation continued and this was it: He said, "We've spoken to our midwives and they have encouraged us to get involved with a support group." (...I think I know where this is going...) "And that means we are more than likely going to need to find a church." Ta-da!!! Absolutely!!!

My heart danced.

In the weeks to follow, I was blessed to have the opportunity to view a slide show of pictures from Delora's birth. I say blessed, but there was a lot of unsettled emotion as I watched it. I can't imagine being in their shoes. Yet even though I can't imagine it...I am a firm believer that our God does not give us more than we can handle. And in the past few months I have witnessed two
non-believers step...rather leap into this whole new life with such strength and courage. And there is no greater proof that the Almighty exists than to see Him work in the life of someone like this. My heart dances!

So yesterday as I was catching up with my co-worker, he was telling me about the "demand" of Down Syndrome adoptions (sounds a little funny, I know), especially among Christians. He said that most of them believe that God brings them into the world for a reason (as opposed to the critical belief that they are born because of improper care during pregnancy). And that while some people don't feel they can handle raising a child with special needs, He places them in families that can. He mentioned that he's been told that God gave Delora to them for a purpose.

...Yes, he sure did! My heart began to do a little jig!

It was then that I mentioned how I feel in regards to my own spiritual growth. When I was pregnant with Nick it was out of wedlock and I could have easily been (and I'm sure I was) "looked down" upon by a lot of people. But even through my sin in this situation I have seen such a positive purpose for my circumstance. And I am blessed beyond measure.

To end our conversation, my co-worker looked at me and said, "Don't beat yourself up over it too much. Marisa and I had Delora out of wedlock too." I laughed hysterically...and as I walked out the door of my office to head home, my heart danced because he seems one step closer to allowing his heart to dance as well.

The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. -Psalm 28:7

The Golden Gate Experience

"Don't ever let the grass grow under your feet."

These are the words someone recently spoke to me.
I would have to say that this person knows me all too well!

Of all the things a person can be remembered for, I would feel pretty honored to have others think of me and say, "You know...she was always doing something. She would take her free time and make meaningful moments out of it."

This past weekend was a three day "holiday" weekend, so on Monday I decided that I would take Nick and a friend and head to the coast. I love the coast. I love the beauty of things seen, and unseen. I love the smell of the ocean air and the sound of the waves breaking onto the shore. There's something so serene about it all. Watching seagulls soaring with the direction of the wind. Observing the water as it descends from the shore.

But most of all, my heart dances when I see the joy and freedom of my son as the beach truly brings out his childlike character.

Drake's Beach was a little foggy and cool while we were there, but it didn't hinder my son from taunting the water or jumping the waves.

After an hour or so on the beach, we decided to venture into the city where the fog lingered around the Golden Gate Bridge but no farther.

For the past few years I have had a desire to walk across the Golden Gate so with time to spare, we parked the car and headed for it. I was SO excited!

My heart was racing as the adrenaline rushed through my body and on the inside I felt young again. Fearless. And after 50 or so steps onto the bridge I hear...

"Mom, I don't want to do this. I'm not going to do this!"

I stopped, turned around while saying, "Are you kidding me?!" and then saw the fear in his pale, 13 year old face.

...I will try to reason with him...

"Nick, nothing has ever happened to this bridge. It's safe. The only time something happens is when someone deliberately jumps off committing suicide. It's foggy right now...you can't even see the bottom!"

Nick: "I don't care...I am not going!!!"

***ugh***

What I wanted to do was put him in a headlock and drag him across the bridge. I wanted to point to this sign and say, "oops...Look at that sign, we can't go back." But instead I spoke in a frustrated tone and said, "Ok. I'll do it another time when you aren't with me."

As I was driving to work this morning I was thinking about that experience in comparison to our relationship with God.

We are taught that when God calls, we are supposed to answer.

"Heed the call."

"Pick up your cross and follow me."

"Look after the widows and orphans."

"Help the poor and needy."

"Be an example to others."

Yet how many times do we fail to comply? How many times do we ignore what is stirring in our hearts? How many times do we say, "I'm just not ready." or "This is way out of my comfort zone, give me something else to do."?

Or...as in the words of my son, "I don't want to do this. I'm not going to do this!"

Dare we say such a thing to God? Maybe it doesn't audibly come out of our mouths, but if we're honest with ourselves we should certainly be able to admit to thinking it in our minds.

Poor Nick...his fear was of heights which is a pretty common fear among people. And I am fully aware of the fact that he sensed my frustration and disappointment when we turned around to head back to the car. But I also failed to realize that he was frustrated and disappointed in his own way. I'm sure he felt as if he let me down.

As if those thoughts this morning weren't enough...this next one was:

How does God respond to me when I let him down or when I'm disobedient?

God doesn't think we are a lost cause. He doesn't throw His hands in the air and say, "I'll go find someone else." And God doesn't put us in a headlock and pull us in the direction He intends for us to go. (Although sometimes I think it would be easier!)

He allows us to make U-turns. He loves us. And because He loves us, He waits. He shapes and designs. He works to strengthen us in the meantime and when we're ready...he moves.

I thank God for being who He is and for giving us His unconditional love. For showing me meaning "in" my moments.

Between the Lines

I jumped on facebook yesterday morning and saw a status update from one of my many cousins that stated she had blogged and was getting ready to take on the rest of her day. It got me to thinking about how much I've missed blogging. I don't know why it's been so difficult for me to sit down and do so...

I am sitting at my desk at work. Thankful the heat has climbed up to above 70 degrees in my office, listening to the wind and the rain outside the window, with a thermal of hot tea beside me. Wishing we had a fireplace here, I have settled with my Gold Canyon candle as an alternative. :)

It's been a while since I have been hit with a cold, but my body finally caved over the past few days and an unwelcome chest cold has settled. As I was looking for something last night to hold hot tea, my mom reminded me of my thermal mug that was sitting in the cupboard. I purchased it a few years ago and have never used it other than for shelf decor. It's a cute little thing, forest green with the word, "Trust" at the top and Proverbs 3:5-6 underneath the word. One of my favorite pieces of Scripture:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart

and lean not on your own understanding;

in all your ways acknowledge him,

and he will make your paths straight.

Several weeks ago, a song came into my mind as I was driving to work. Not just any song...but an OLD song. It was a foggy morning and the song was one recorded by Ricky Van Shelton, called "Keep it Between the Lines."

It's a song that disappeared from my play list a few decades ago, but when it came to mind I could easily recite it, word for word.

"Keep it Between the Lines" and Proverbs 3:5-6 intertwined for me this morning as I battled the wind thrashing against my little Honda Civic. Driving during high winds has a tendency to wear a person out. When I stepped out of my car, I felt as though I had just completed several rounds of a boxing match.

Several hours later, I sit at my desk pondering the message that God is trying to convey to me. It sounds so simple, until the winds blow. Or rain pounds on top of you. Or fog settles in. Or weariness consumes...

OR...we go outside of the lines because something looks more appealing than the road we're on. So we pull off to try and satisfy what we feel may be missing. Something on the shoulder looks more appealing. More enticing. More..."fun." We have desires we feel are unmet. Expectations unfulfilled.

I have learned that it is much more difficult to "Trust" God when you have your own agenda.

My devotional this morning challenged me. It was titled "Redirected" and spoke of the story of Joseph. Here was a boy who stayed between the lines. Was loved by his father yet hated by his brothers. His life was so promising and the Lord was with him. Even when his brothers sold him to slavery, he remained faithful and true to the Lord. He could have taken a detour off the road. If not when he was sold, surely he could have when Portiphar's wife tried to seduce him. Or when she accused him and caused his imprisonment. I highly doubt Joseph expected his life journey to take this direction.

When our dreams are shattered, how do we react? After Joseph, the favored son of Jacob, was sold as a slave by his brothers (Gen. 37:12-36), he could have given in to self-pity and self-indulgence. Instead, Joseph remained true to the Lord. Four times in Genesis 39, we read that "the Lord was with" Joseph (vv.2-3, 21,23), and his actions revealed his own faithfulness to God. By his exemplary life, those he served in Egypt recognized God's presence with him.

Do we love God more than our own dreams? Although Joseph must have grieved the loss of his past and what his life could have been, the Lord led him to a calling he had never imagined. Today, the Lord longs to lead us. Are we willing to be redirected by Him?

-David McCasland (Our Daily Bread)

It's a challenge and a fight to keep it between the lines and trust the will of God when the wind blows. And it's a challenge to stay between them and trust when you long for "more" along the journey. But God blesses the faithful. God honors the persevering. And God strengthens the weak.

Lions, Tigers, and Bears

It seems like forever since I have felt determined to sit down and blog. ...I mean really blog. I have caught myself in the middle of frustration because I haven't been able to focus on one single topic and just "go with it." As I was getting ready for work this morning, things all came together and I realized that I was once again trying to push my way into something that God was not ready to release me to do.

I want my posts to have meaning and sometimes even depth. :) And I want my posts to come from my heart. The past month or so, I feel as though I've experienced a case of "writer's block." ...and I don't even consider myself to be a writer!!!

Anyway, this morning as I was getting ready for work, I was reflecting on a trip to the snow that I took over the weekend with Nick and a small group of others from church. The snow was great. It was an absolutely beautiful day. So beautiful that the majority of us shed our warm winter jackets and gloves shortly after we arrived.

But my thoughts this morning weren't focused on the snow, or the sun, or the sledding. All I kept thinking about was the topic of discussion we had on the hour and a half drive there.

Earlier in the week, I was listening to talk radio's "Armstrong and Getty." It was a "best-of" show and they were discussing a recent study performed at UC Davis. The study was about how to react if you find yourself face to face with a mountain lion.

Originally, it was advised that you should stand still. Now they feel as though running for your life may be a better alternative. Either way, I pray to God that I never find myself in a situation where I am forced to make that kind of decision.

There was a caller on the talk show that was living in the Foothills at the time, and was out for a daily run. As he was jogging along a trail, he caught something out of the corner of his eye, stopped, and noticed a mountain lion staring at him. He began to run again and noticed the "cat" running along with him. He stopped, the mountain lion stopped. He began to jog, and the cat did the same. Fortunately, there was no actual encounter and it makes for an incredible story.

So we discussed lions, and bear, and snakes, and gators, and sharks...

And by the time we pulled off the side of the road for an unscheduled pit stop...I was so paranoid that when I heard snow falling from a tree branch to the ground I freaked out and jumped back into the truck, heart racing and palms sweaty.

"If it ever happens that I find myself face to face with a mountain lion, I am going to pray that there is a single stone nearby and that God turns me into David."

And then I wondered what I would do if this happened and Nick was with me. One of the other things discussed on the talk show was the fact that wild animals will prey on someone based on their "gait." Nick has a limp in his walk... Sure it's easy to say that I would sacrifice myself for my son's life. But what if after I've been attacked the animal goes after him next?

...then I realized that I was turning into a hypochondriac.

How many times in our everyday life do we find our hearts racing? Our palms sweaty? How many times do we "freak out," find ourselves running for cover, barely able to breathe out of fear?

Now think about this...

How many times have we missed out on something incredible, more amazing than we could possibly comprehend, rob ourselves of a joyful experience, or fail to live in the moment because of our fear?

...our fear of disappointment.

...our fear of failure.

...our fear of being hurt.

My adrenaline raced immensely on that drive as we talked about "wildlife encounters." And I am not exaggerating when I mentioned stepping out of the truck and being paranoid. I was so convinced that there was a mountain lion lurking in the bushes along the side of the road.

As we got in the truck to head home from our day in the snow I realized that in the few hours we spent laughing, playing, and enjoying the beautiful day, there wasn't a single moment that I felt that fear. And I can't help but think about how much I would have missed out on had my mind been consumed with that fear.

One of my goals in 2010 is to work through fear. Without apprehension. Without anxiety. Without timidity. Without doubt.

I may not have physically encountered a mountain lion that day.

...but I believe God handed me a stone...

A Hiatus...

Well, I think I set a record for myself regarding the longest time without blogging. I have had several intentions over the past few weeks, but every time I'd be determined to...something bigger would come up.

The past few weeks have been such a bittersweet ending to a year gone by and an optimistic glimpse of the new year to come!

My nephew's birthday was the 23rd of December and we were invited to meet them for pizza and bowling which came as a fairly big surprise. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun with my family. We laughed, we mocked one another's bowling skills and merely enjoyed each others' company. Of course yours truly had the winning game for the night...even though I am anything but competitive. :)

Christmas Eve was more of the same. When I arrived home from work the CA family was hanging out around the tree playing Christmas word scramble games.

This year I used a little of my creativity for some of my gifts. For my sister-in-law, I framed a picture of my nephew facing a sunset as well as pictures I had taken of my niece and nephew. I'm pretty sure she knew I had been up to something...but she acted surprised, and even claimed it made her cry. For my sister-in-law and I...that was a pretty big moment. My brother's girlfriend received a black and white of the Golden Gate, and my mom received pictures of the grandkids.

Nick has never been so difficult to shop for as he is at 13. UGH!!! The gift from his grandma and grandpa was a hit, though. A Sniper-looking Nerf gun. We practically had to pry it out of my 23 year-old brother's hands which made him cry... :) Not really, but he and his nephews were scattered throughout the house attacking each other until midnight while my niece enjoyed playing with the night vision binoculars that I bought for Nick.

My "big" gift was nothing I asked for...and certainly nothing I would have been smart enough to ask for. It's a good thing that my dad looks out for me. I now have an external hard drive that holds a terabyte...which means absolutely nothing to me other than it will hold a whole lot of pictures.

Aside from the gifts and watching everyone play with them...it was so amazing to just sit, as a family. In peace. In unity. And in love. For those of you who know about family dysfunction, you should know how huge it is when you all get along.

Christmas Day my dad took my mom, Nick, and I to the snow. It was a blast, and I loved having the chance to do that. I miss the snow, especially at Christmas.

December 26th was my dad's birthday. (December is a busy month for the Brooks family!) My brother's family came over for dinner and when I got home from church the majority of them were at the table playing Monopoly. I sat around with my sister-in-law and nephew, tried to blog but then my nephew asked me if I would play cards with he and his mom. Who would say no to THAT? So I sat on the floor with the two of them and we played a game called "Pit." Cute game, but it was cuter when Landon made up his own rules to the game merely to benefit his hand of cards. Which was fine...but then we got too busy laughing and giggling and tickling that it didn't even really matter. I loved seeing my sister-in-law laugh at my behavior toward her son. I don't get that much...and it was the best gift I received on this Christmas weekend.

The past few weeks, I have worked my tail off, I have spoken to dear friends, I have loved every minute I had the opportunity to hang out with my family, and I have cherished the many hours of playing Mario with Nick on Wii.

So blogging has taken the backseat, and I don't even feel bad about it.