Finding the Perfect Mother's Day Gift

Mother's Day is one of those holidays that most people don't know how it came to exist, but go along with it anyway.  From the time we are tiny our dads, grandmas, or older siblings told us on this particular Sunday of the each year, we needed to make something special for Mommy, cook her breakfast in bed, and, most importantly, be especially good.   These instructions have been the motivation behind a plethora of  hand print art pieces, overcooked eggs, and whispered sibling fights.  As we get older, we go through the entire "Things Remembered" collection  knowing that Mom will smile and seem genuinely thrilled with just about anything that has our picture or name on it.  We stand elbow to elbow in the card section at Target picking out the perfect card, or the one card that is left that has a matching envelope and is not in a language we don't speak.  Some years, we go all out and get her something really good like a massage or art made by an actual artist, and Mom's reaction is not just genuine, it's off the charts because she had given up hope of ever getting a gift she really likes.  However, in spite of our stumbling through early morning kitchen destruction, mediocre gifts and buying the same card two years in a row, our moms really are always so thankful on Mother's Day.  They walk around with big smiles and relish well-wishes from family and strangers alike.  For years, it has been a mystery to me why moms are so appreciative when we often don't do such a great job of celebrating them.  

Then, I had a child of my own.  For the past ten months I have been a real life, in the trenches, 24/7 mommy.  Motherhood is a whirlwind!  Some days you feel made for it and some days you think you're completely failing.  Some days you can't remember life before being a mommy and some days you can't remember your name.  It is exhausting and exhilarating.  It is painful and precious.  It is  terrifying and thrilling.  It is jolting and joyful.  It is by far the greatest job I've ever had in my life, even when I'm up at 3am with a teething child who doesn't understand why her mouth hurts.  The gift of a child that you get to love and comfort and shape and teach is tremendous.  The fact that God has trusted you with His precious creation and is letting you represent His love and grace and comfort is humbling and awe-inspiring.  Which is why, I'm looking forward to all of the random, hand crafted,  dollar-store gifts that will come my way in years to come.  The gift of being a mom is truly the apex of gifts.  There is nothing greater that I can be given, and every time I hear "Happy Mother's Day" this year, I'll be thinking about my precious gift and the joy permanently residing in my heart because of her existence.  

Of course, you can still TRY to give a great gift.  Spa days are great, jewelry is always good, and if you have a mom like me, you can't go wrong with a great pair of shoes! Hand print optional.  :)

  

Feeling Fabulous at 40!

I confess, I did not expect this to be the title of my birthday blog post.  My perspective on turning forty was developed in my teenage years when I first saw this moment in "When Harry Met Sally": 

I've quoted that line too many times to count, with the same melodramatic despair  Meg Ryan used when she said, "someday".  Turning forty was synonymous with an ending in my mind.  The end of being young and all that I associate with youth.  The end of fun and frivolity.  The end of spontaneity and adventure.  Just, the end.  My feelings about forty were beginning to show a few months ago as the new year approached when my very practical husband said to me, "The alternative is to be dead, so I want you to turn forty."  Sometimes a simple truth can slap you out of your melodrama. 

Once I turned off the voice of Meg Ryan, I was able to take a good look at my life and what forty was really going to mean.  Here I sit, turning forty, and I'm in the middle of one of the sweetest seasons of my life.  I'm in a marriage that grows stronger every day, because I married a man that loves God first and is committed to having a healthy relationship with me.  I'm enjoying all of the amazing firsts that come with the first year of my sweet daughter's life.  I have incredible family and friends who are there for laughs as well as support and encouragement.  I'm unbelievably blessed to get to use the gifts that God has given me as a speaker and be a part of so many different ministries and churches as I pursue the ministry God has given me.  Even more, I have all these years of life experience, wisdom and faith to fall back on as I face whatever new challenges or trials I may face.  Getting older really is about getting better. 

Oh sure, I don't have the body of a nineteen year old anymore (and boy that was such a great body), but I'm happy to trade it for no longer having the foolishness of a nineteen year old.  I may not have the energy I had when I was twenty-five, but I'm so glad to not have the insecurities I had then. At forty I have so much more security, confidence, faith, and peace than I had in my younger years that I can't help but feel great about where I am and what is to come.  

I share this to encourage you as you age.  We live in a world that puts so much emphasis on looking young and being young that it is easy to think of getting older as a bad thing, when in fact we gain a lot with each year of life we live.  As we continue to persevere through life, we have the opportunity to become better at handling all that life throws at us.  We also have more to share with others and a greater appreciation for all of the blessings that come our way.  As it turns out, I don't feel the least bit old, but I do feel more sure of who I am and what my purpose is on this planet, and that makes turning forty feel fabulous!

So, What's This Blog About Anyway?

There is an inevitable day in every blogger's life where we have to ask the question: Why on earth am I blogging.  Let's face it, there are a LOT of blogs out there, and it is easy to believe that you have nothing new to contribute.  We have all had "deep" thoughts that later, after a good night's sleep or a strong dose of caffeine, revealed themselves to be nonsensical ramblings.  Knowing this, I decided to take a moment and ask myself what my blog is all about. 

My answer was pretty simple, once I thought about it. I have a unique story.  I'm not saying no one has ever done any of the things I've done or experienced any of the things I've experienced.  However, the complete story that is my life is mine alone.  The home I grew up in, the parents that raised me, the places I've been, the education I've received, the MANY mistakes I've made along the way all combine and result in a life that is unique.  That means my perspective is unique, and my voice is unique.  God created each of us to be unique individuals with unique purpose in His kingdom. The things God puts on my heart to work on and share can only come from me in this particular way. 

I don't for a moment believe that I'm discovering or revealing something new about Christ or living the Christian life.  That would be foolishly arrogant of me.  What I do believe is that God is continuously teaching and growing me through various life experiences, trials, tests, and relationships. It is that ongoing journey that I want to share in my blog in the hopes that someone out there can benefit from some of my lessons and failures.  The Bible is full of stories of people who were struggling and growing, and we learn from them.  In the same way, I believe God wanted us to have community in the Christian world so we could learn from each other, encourage each other, hold each other accountable, and love on each other as we all work together to finish the race.  

So what is my blog about?

An ordinary woman living real life, powered by an extraordinary God, sharing what I learn with others who want to please God daily.  Walk, run, and stumble along with me as we attempt together to be Christians and be real in our everyday lives at work, at school, at home, and everywhere else we go!

The Best Laid Plans...

So I arrived at Allaso Ranch yesterday afternoon with a message ready. I'd been asked to speak to the students about bringing what they get at camp home. I'd been thinking about my message for a few weeks and had landed on an illustration about souvenirs and the story of Saul's conversion. I made a few tweaks around 4pm and was ready to go.

At high school camp the evening worship experience starts at 9pm. If that is your bedtime camp will mess you up, believe me. I'm a late night gal, so speaking at 9:30 doesn't phase me too much. As I stood in the back for the run through, I spoke with a couple of the trainers and pastors and learned a little about the kids in attendance. I began to feel this nudge that perhaps God was going to change my message. This is a nudge I have felt before, but it never fails to make my stomach drop a little. By the time the kids were into the second worship song, I knew my planned and practiced message had been tabled. God whispered some new scripture in my ear, and I took a deep breath as I quickly pulled them up on my iPhone and copied them into a note.

I had one more song to pray and talk to God about where He was taking me now and then my name was being called. I will tell you that this does not happen all the time. I will also tell you that it is the most disarming way to step in front of a group as a speaker. However, there is also a peace that comes over me in these moments. I am never more aware that the words are not mine, but God's. I am completely submitted to Him in these moments. I have to be or else I would hyperventilate myself into a panic attack.

I want to carry this feeling over to the other areas of my life where I struggle to submit: in my work, my marriage, my friendships. Surrender is such a key aspect of being a Christian, yet it can be one of the hardest things to do. If I can just remember that each day is just like last night. I may have plans, but God's plans trump mine, and He is ready to put His plans into play over mine at any moment.

A Shout-Out to Two Talented Ladies

Last week, I was very excited to have my new website go live, and I want to take a moment to give a shout-out to a couple of amazing women who helped make it look so great.  As I began to put together my website and blog I realized how much I do not know about such things.  I did manage to get a "placeholder" website up and use one of the standard templates to throw together my blog, but I knew I needed to find a professional who can make both things look excellent.  I was blessed to find the fabulous Karie Williams, a Dallas based brand strategist.  Her gifts in marketing, graphic design, and art direction blew me away.  Frankly, I think her job is incredibly cool and completely beyond my comprehension!  I'm a girl who can't  draw a stick figure, but I know what I like when I see it, and with Karie, I love her work!  The other fabulous woman that helped make all this come together was the photographer, Hope Toliver.  Hope lives and works in the Tulsa area, but she was kind enough to squeeze a photo shoot in on a recent trip to Dallas.  Ladies, we all know that the camera can be your best friend or your worst enemy, so finding someone that can make you look beautiful, even in a close up, is a treasure!  I'm so thankful to God for gifting these ladies with their talents, and I'm thankful to Karie and Hope for using those talents to help a sister out!  

To Nap or Not to Nap...

...that is the question.  Whether it is smarter to push through the drowsiness of a Sunday afternoon and stay awake so that you can sleep soundly when it is bed time, OR better to indulge your sleepy feelings and curl up for two hours, only to find yourself awake after midnight.  That truly is the question.  The question I face every Sunday.  From week to week I choose differently, although I must admit the nap wins out more than not.  Frankly, I love a good nap.  I think I get an endorphin rush from allowing myself to sleep in the middle of the day.  I have no scientific proof, but it feels like science to me, and there is something special about naps on Sundays.  Maybe it is a throwback to childhood when we napped on Sunday afternoon before going back for the evening service on Sunday night.  Perhaps it is praise induced exhaustion resulting from energetic worship services on Sunday morning.   Then again, it could be the soothing sounds of golf tournaments on Sunday afternoons that might as well be soft rain or crickets as far as my brain is concerned.  All I know is, most Sundays, even without trying, I pass out for a minimum of 90 minutes, and I love it.  I love it right up until the point when I'm wide awake writing a blog post at 12:55 am.  Then I vow once again to not nap next Sunday... or at least not so long next Sunday...or on the couch and not the bed because that is less restful.  Who am I kidding.  I'll be sitting here again in a week trolling Facebook to see who else took too long of a nap after church.  Until then...

Waiting Room Suggestions

I've spent a lot of time in waiting rooms lately. I know them well. Some go for the modern look while others are more elegant classic. Some have kids table while others are clearly for grown folks only. All seem to be linked to the same obnoxious awful elevator music station that plays horrible keyboard arrangements of Celine Dion hits and jazz tunes I've never heard in any jazz club. A few will supplement the bad music with a muted, closed caption flat screen viewing of CNN or Fox News. And then of course there is the standard basket of outdated magazines covering sports, cars, fashion, parenting, and Hollywood gossip but only as current as last month. 
Knowing what I'm facing, I try to remember to go in armed with a book of my own choosing so that I don't feel compelled to read about the "latest" Kardashian drama or who will go first in the NFL draft (yes I know it is over, but the old magazines don't).  I am tempted to pull out my headphones and save my ears from the auditory invasion that calls itself easy listening, but it feels rude, and I'm worried I might miss my name when it is finally mis-pronounced  to the room at large. I mean I have to be ready to respond to Janet Wilburn as well.   Finding a corner away from the television is usually not too difficult except when they don't have it muted, in which case I'm just stuck hearing the same news I already heard this morning repeated several more times.
If I could change the slightly less important things of this world, I would start with waiting rooms. The magazines would all be from this month/ week only and I would have more than three types available.  The music would be actual music.  You know, the music people buy and listen to at home and there would be a jukebox wall where each person waiting could pick one song to play while they wait.  I would eliminate TVs altogether from waiting rooms.  I mean my husband and I only agree on a handful of shows and we are in a lifelong committed relationship.  There is no way a rotating group of strangers can find one show to watch outside of the Royal wedding and the Olympics (summer not winter).
Now the best solution of all would be to cut back on the waiting time altogether, but alas that seems unattainable. So for now I shall bravely face my waiting room time, book in hand, with a seat far from all speakers, and a smile on my face. There are far worse things happening in the world..., and I did use today's time writing this, so there's the bright side.

Falling Down, Looking Up, Laughing All the Way

I admit it.  I'm one of those people.  One of those people who laughs when someone falls down.  I know. It's not nice, but, in all fairness, I laugh just as hard at myself when I fall down.  There is just something about it that cracks me up.  I'm the reason AFV will be in syndication for years to come.  It is always funny.  Just the other night as my mom and I left the first night of Flavour Conference, I fell as we were going to the car.  I had just shared in my message that night that I'm accident prone, and I fell before I made it to the car.  And, yes, I laughed...for a while. It was extra funny because I had just talked about it to a room full of women, but it would have been funny if it had just been a regular Thursday. 

Like anyone else, I want to present myself well.  I want to make a good impression and generally like to imagine that I'm thought of as poised and well put together.  Sometimes, that is who I really am, but just as often, I'm the girl who trips and falls on her rear end. Why? I think it is one of the many ways God keeps me humble.  I mean, think about the timing of Thursday's fall.  What could be more dangerous to my pride than standing on a stage and having hundreds of people listening just to me? Not much for a girl who liked being the center of attention from birth,...and the delivery room was all about me.  Seems like the perfect time to me for God to make sure I'm knocked on my tail in my pretty white pants within the hour! Just in case I was about to forget for a second who the evening was really about, I remember I'm Janay, the girl who trips over nothing and falls down.  He is the God of the universe.  

For this balance from the Lord, I'm truly thankful.  I want to please God and live according to His will.  I want to keep Jesus and the spreading of the gospel first in my life.  I want to be the vessel He uses, and not the distraction He must remove.  I want to be a part of the kingdom work for as long as He will let me.  I want all of that knowing that I'm undeserving, unworthy, and unfinished.  The miracle of grace is that God can and will use me in spite of me, even if that means letting me stumble on my rear a few times to make sure I keep looking up.  I'm thankful for His grace, His gifts, and His plan to use me, so I laugh when I fall down. Then I get up, brush myself off, and look up to see which way He's pointing next.