How to take a family photo:

Do you know how hard it is to get a family Christmas photo taken when you have two kids under two, who hate being in dress clothes, when you don"t have anyone else to take the photo for you? Very. It is very hard.

But we managed... ish.

Bryan kept asking me if this was absolutely necessary. "Yes!" I said, "We need a family photo for our Christmas cards."

And yes, our cards did turn out to be fairly cute. And yes, ok, we got some adorable pictures of the kids. 

Exhibit A:

But most of the pictures taken were more like this:

Saoirse scowling, Reuben falling over because Saoirse didn't want to hold him anymore... yikes. Our "photo shoot" comprised of one sweaty little boy (I mean, it's like 70 degrees and I'm making him wear nylon pants, a dress shirt and a vest.) And one very terrible two's, tantrum throwing, not-happy-to-be-wearing-a-dress, Saoirse.

Did we really need to do a Christmas photo shoot? No. We could have gotten by with the thousands of other pictures we have of the kids. Am I glad we managed to get one family photo taken? Definitely. It may have been painful, but someday, it will be a great memory and I'll be really glad I forced my family to do it. It will be fun to watch our little family change and evolve over the years... someday.Right now, S is probably just praying I never put her in that dress again.

Happy Christmas week everyone!

P.S. Isn't our little home so beautiful? I think it looks like a greeting card! It makes me so happy!

Prayers with Friends

I know there's the popular game, Words with Friends, which sounds like fun as long as you don't play with Alec Baldwin, but yesterday I experienced something much better.

Yesterday a sailor had a really rough day. One that most of us cannot even begin to imagine. Of course, I can't give the details of the situation, but I can definitively say that he was and will continue to be in desperate need of prayer.

The amazing thing was, I logged into facebook and said that prayers were needed. No more details, just to pray. And I got over a dozen responses of dear friends and family all over the world who stopped what they were doing to pray. They prayed without knowing what they were praying for, but they prayed nonetheless.

I'm often amazed at how loving people can be when you give them a chance. This situation is just another example of that. And I know more people prayed than commented. I can't stress to you enough how much those prayers meant to us, how they were felt, and how they will continue to help.

I love my friends and family so much. They are amazing. And our God is even more amazing. Hallelujah.

Too busy pinning!

So, it's been weeks since I've blogged and I realized there is one culprit. Pinterest. For those of you who pin, you understand. For those of you who don't, it's wonderful, but oh so addicting!

I love being able to go online and quickly find a game to play with the kids, a way to make cute hair bows without spending any money, a way to turn a milk jug into a super cute storage box. I mean, it's crazy the stuff that crafters can figure out!

But now I have a problem. I have like 40 projects going and no time to finish them because instead of working on them, I'm looking up more projects on Pinterest. Ugh!

I know, I'm crazy, but I'm okay with that.

On a completely different note, the kids are great. S is loving her soccer class and R rolled over both ways the other day and is starting the inchworm thing. He'll be crawling in no time!

Thanks for checking in, but I have to get going. There are thousands of crafts that can be made out of garbage that are begging to be made!

Thankful

This is not our first thanksgiving away from home, but it is our first Thanksgiving as our own little family with the two kids. As I was preparing our turkey dinner (which was delish, thank you very much Alton Brown!) there were so many instances that made me thankful today. Here's a brief list of the things I thought about today... enjoy, and Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

multiple white onesies- When Reuben blew out of his today I was able to just throw it away!
Alton Brown- He taught me to cook and made our wonderful meal possible!
video chat- Seriously can't imagine life without it!
wine- I mean, do I really need to explain that one?
Mickey Mouse- He can entertain my kid for hours if I let him.
not being preggo- Happy to not be baking a kiddo!
traditions- I love our holiday traditions. They are constant in a crazy world.
my hubby's job- It's great to see him in a job after going without last year.

And of course, all the usual sentimental "thankfuls"; my family, my husband, my kids, etc., etc.

Now on to the holiday season! Filled with homemade stockings, Christmas cookies, mulled wine,  and Bing Crosby. Yay!

You're gonna miss this

Driving in the car today, I heard the song by Trace Adkins "You're gonna miss this" and I thought, I hope I'm able to remember everything from these days. When you're a parent you endure sleepless nights, dirty diapers, spit-ups, blowouts, broken sunglasses, teething, temper tantrums and stress like you've never imagined.

Yet, after cleaning poop from three sets of pj's, listening to my son scream for 45 minutes straight while I had a headache and hearing that blasted Navy bear song for the bazillionth time, I came out of my daughter's room tonight with tears in my eyes because I know that all too soon these days will be behind me.

On Wednesday my daughter will start her first soccer lessons. In three weeks my son will start eating solid foods. I finished packing up all of my maternity clothes to be given away. In five years time, both of my kids will be in school. And I know myself. I know that when I walk my son into his first day of kindergarden, I'm going to wish that he was back at home with me, smiling at the red bird on his play mat.

I've lost my figure, my sanity and countless hours of sleep. I've given up wine for 9 months (twice!). I now eat my mac and cheese with sweet potatoes hidden in it. I watch more Mickey Mouse Clubhouse than Food Network.

But I've also twirled around the house, dancing with my daughter. I've laughed as my son stopped drinking his bottle today so he could smile at me. I've cuddled with both kiddos wrapped under a blanket early this morning. And I've sung lullabies to my babies every night .

I'm trying to take in every moment. I'm trying to cling on to every little detail, to make certain it is locked in my memory forever. on those days where I just want to throw something through a window, I try to remember how quickly they grow up. I try to remember how my heart melted when we were all curled up together watching cartoons in bed. Because one of these days, I'm gonna miss this.

What memories do you hold dear? What are you gonna miss when your kiddos are all grown up?

Sticks and Stones

You're stupid. You're ugly. You're retarded. You're gross. You talk funny. You're a giant. You're a wimp. I hate you. I wish you were never born. You're fat. No one likes you.

I just found out today that my little sister is being bullied at school. My wonderful, kind, loving little sister is being told that she's fat, ugly and stupid. It breaks my heart. I've literally been crying off and on all day just thinking about it. You'd be hard pressed to find a lovelier person than my sister. She is the most attentive, forgiving, merciful kind hearted little girl I've ever had the pleasure to meet.

She's told me about people who have hurt her before and instead of being sad about it, she said they only acted that way because they didn't know what it was like to be loved. She felt sorry for them. 

But these words have broken her spirit. They have made her feel worthless. I can't stand it because I love her so much. All I want to do is hold her in my arms and tell her how incredibly special she is.

Personally, I wanted to give them all a good spanking. How can kids be so cruel? How can they say such awful things to such a good person? Don't they know how their words will change her?

When I was a little girl I once wore a purple sweatshirt to school. A boy said I looked stupid, like Barney the dinosaur. Of course, being me, I just hit him. But that didn't help the matter. It just made him more mean because now he didn't want to look bad because a girl beat him up. He and his friends laughed at me all day calling me "Barney".

I threw that sweatshirt away. It was one of my favorite shirts. My mom bought it for me on one of our very rare trips to the store with just the two of us. (There were five of us growing up, so that was a big treat to get one on one time with a parent.) I didn't even wear the color purple again until highschool. Even now, I only have one purple shirt, and I only wear it under a green shirt as an accent color.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm still afraid of being called "Barney", but I am saying that one person's hurtful remark can have a significant, lifelong effect on you.

Parents, if your kid is being bullied or is being the bully, the answer isn't to ignore it and hope it goes away. There are more important things at stake here than someone deciding to never wear purple again. If bullying has reared its ugly head in your life in any way, talk about it, get help, make it stop. Let's give our kids a better life than the one we had.

But as for now, since I'm on the other side of the country and can't give my sister the hug I so desperately desire to give her, I hope these words from someone much better than myself can help to comfort her. I hope they help you too.

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother's womb. I thank you, High God - you're breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! 

~ Psalm 139:13

For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and hope.

 ~Jeremiah 29:11

What's the price of two or three pet canaries? Some loose change, right? But God never overlooks a single one. And he pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail - even numbering the hairs on your head! So don't be intimidated by all this bully talk. 

~ Luke 12:7

I have loved you with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself.

~Jeremiah 31:3

My response is to get down on my knees before the Father, this magnificent Father who parcels out heaven and earth. I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit - not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength - that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you'll be able to take in with all followers of Jesus the extravagant dimensions of Christ's love.

~ Ephesians 3:16-21

To find out more about bullying visit
http://www.stopbullying.gov/index.html 

Commitment?

Omg! Kim Kardashian and her new hubby Kris are getting a divorce! Shock. Surprise. Oh, the horror. Can you sense my sarcasm yet?

It's been all over the news this week. Another celebrity couple call it quits after only 72 days of marriage. Normally people say, 'oh that's sad'. But this time I've just seen outrage... and rightly so. It's ridiculous that they were able to take something that is meant to be a holy covenant and throw it away like leftovers that have finally gone off.

The week before I got a letter from my pen pal back in Ohio, a little girl I had the opportunity to pray for all last year. Her parents just got divorced and she said to me in her letter, 'I'm glad we have something in common. But, I mean, what is it like? Is it weird or what?' My heart broke for her. I felt all the swell of emotions from when my parents went through it and I just wanted to wrap her in my arms.

Because even the most well intentioned divorce tears a child apart. Even if it truly is the best thing for the parents, it still destroys the family and there is nothing you can do to fix that. You can put a band-aid on it, you can learn to live with it, but everyone will always carry that scar with them. And for the kids, it will always effect the relationships they have, the way they deal with stress, the way they view parenting as adults... it's life changing.

Anyway, it made me think, what the heck is wrong with us? Half of marriages in the US end in divorce, and no, I'm not exaggerating.

Now, I know there are some situations that warrant divorce. Cheating, abuse, etc., but those are a small percentage of the 50%. The real issue is that people don't know what it means to be committed to one another. They think a wedding is a wonderful and grand party and forget that it signifies the beginning of a lifelong relationship.

When you say those vows and sign those papers you are saying that you will stick by that person no matter what. You are saying that your life now belongs to them and they are saying that their life now belongs to you. You are telling the world that the two of you are one.

You should stick by them when money troubles come. You should remain faithful, even if you are separated for a long time (like when work calls one spouse away form the home for a time). You should stick together even when you find out something that the other person initially hid from you, like their credit card debt. And you should stick together, even when you seem to fight about everything. All that means is that you need help, not that you should give up.

We should love no matter what. We should give second chances. We should forgive. We should show grace. After all, that's what Christ did for us. And that's what our marriage is supposed to resemble.

So what's our problem with commitment? Our problem is that so many of us don't know what it is supposed to look like.  Well, I'll tell you. It's supposed to look like Christ. The better you and yours truly know Him, the better your marriage will be.

It's not easy. It's not convenient. It's not self-serving. Thank God for that.

Giving

This past Sunday, before the offering plate was passed, one of the men of the church gave a short meditation about giving. He read Mark 12: 41-44, the story of the poor widow who gave just two copper coins but Jesus said she gave more than anyone else because they gave out of her wealth and she, in poverty, gave all she had.

This bit of scripture always made me feel like a schmuck. I know I'm not the richest person in the world, but I'm definitely no where near being poor... no one in America is, really. So every time I read this I think to myself, "I'm a bad person. I'm not giving everything I have. I'm one of those rich pharisees."

And up to this past week, any time I've heard anyone else talk about or teach on this scripture they are all saying the same thing. What more can you do? What more can you give? Heck, I've used this scripture to teach that lesson.

But this past Sunday the guy who spoke at church read the scripture and said, "Every time I read this scripture it makes me feel good." And I was amazed. My jaw actually dropped. That was the first time I had EVER heard anyone say that about this passage. But he said, "Yeah, I mean, it reminds me that no matter how little money I have, I'll always have enough to give back to the Father what he has given to me."

I was flabbergasted. It's so simple, yet everyone seems to miss it. It's not about giving more, it's about giving everything you have. It's one of those things that I know, and I've heard it taught and taken the idea out of other scripture, but for some reason, never this Mark passage.

I was too busy feeling guilty about not giving more money to remember that God doesn't need that money. Yes, he can use it, but he doesn't need it. The giving is for me. It teaches me to be thankful for all I've been given. It is there to remind me that what I've been given isn't mine, it still belongs to God. Giving doesn't help God, it helps me.

So simple, even a schmuck can do it.

Things toddlers do

My daughter has this book called "Things Toddlers Do" and she absolutely LOVES it. I think its because it has real pictures of kids her age doing things like climbing, smelling flowers, eating ice cream, etc. etc.

I thought it was a great book until we came to the page that told my kid that toddlers "bang on pots". We already struggle to keep her out of things in the kitchen, and this book wasn't helping. I thought to myself, "Stupid book, teaching my kids to make a mess...yadda, yadda, yadda". You get the point; I was complaining.

Then I suddenly thought, "Amanda, you're complaining way too much." I was. So instead of complaining about a book which is actually really good for my daughter, I thought I'd blog about the things my toddler does. After all, she won't be a toddler forever. These messes can be cleaned up. And ten years from now I'll probably be complaining about the life of a preteen and wishing I was picking up pots and pans again.

So, without further delay, I present to you, "Things My Toddler Does". Enjoy :)

Toddlers drink from cups

 Toddlers do tricks, like laying their head to the side when you ask them to "be cute"!

Toddlers make a HUGE mess, especially when eating brownies.

 Toddlers bang on pots.

Toddlers dress themselves... it can be interesting!

Toddlers play on the slide!

 Toddlers make silly faces!

Toddlers make a BIG mess in their room when they are supposed to be taking a nap!

Toddlers throw tantrums when you ask them to clean up their messes!

Toddlers stand on their head!

Toddlers can't wait for Daddy to come home after work!

I love my little toddler! She keeps me on my toes, but that's kind of what toddlers do.

Where is the love?

So, I've been reading about Alabama's new immigration law and how it has illegal and legal immigrants alike running around scared to death. In the most recent stories surfacing around this new law are the stories of illegal immigrants who are giving custodial power of their children to American citizen neighbors and friends should they be deported to Mexico.

I don't really want to get into the big debate on immigration because I don't think that's the real issue here. I want to talk about the kids. I can't imagine what they must be feeling. I would hate for my kids to worry that mommy and daddy might not come home when they go out for groceries or that they might have to go live with our neighbors. It must be terrifying for them.

And what about these neighbors and friends who say, "Yes, I'll take care of your kid, raise them like they were my own, and make sure they get the best education possible." What an amazing act of love to show to people who feel so un-loved. I imagine that act speaks louder then any words uttered by a politician.

What really disturbs me are the comments people make about these stories. I don't know where all this hate comes from. One comment read, "we should kick out the Americans who are taking their children too!". Really? Should we kick out every American who takes in a child from a different country? 

What made us so hateful? When did it become a despicable thing to take in your neighbors kids and give them the best future possible? I'm sad that people actually think this way.

I pray that Christians aren't sending out this message. I hope that we are the ones taking in these children. I hope that we are helping our neighbors become legal residents. I hope we're showing people what love really is. I hope...

Elephant in the room

There is this poem about a King who took a bunch of blind men and put them in the same room as an elephant and asked them to tell him what they were touching. One was against his broad and sturdy side and declared that it was surely a wall. Another felt the smooth tusk, pointed at the end and declared it was a spear. The third held the trunk in his hand as it was squirming about and declared it was a great snake. The next felt the big leg and knobbly knee and declared it was surely a tree. The fifth felt the ear of the elephant and said it certainly was a fan. Another grabbed a hold of the tail and said, no, it must be a rope.

The moral of the story is that, in the theological realm, we all argue about God, saying he's one thing or the other and we're all really talking about the same thing. We're all just fighting about "an elephant we've never seen". Basically, it doesn't matter which road you take, they all lead to the same thing.

But there are some thing we fail to recognize about this story.

First, not one of the blind men were right. Trying to figure out blindly what the the elephant was, not a single one of them came to the correct conclusion.

Secondly, they were all correct in their description of the part of the elephant they felt. The problem wasn't in what they felt, but the way in which they interpreted that information.

Third, the only one in the room who could see the whole picture was the King. All the blind men had to do was listen to his explanation to arrive at the correct conclusion. His explanation may not make sense to them, but they need to remember that they are blind. The only way to arrive at the truth of the situation is to have faith in what the King tells them... that they are really touching an elephant.

Now don't get me wrong, I know that doesn't perfectly dispute the idea that all religions are one, but you get the idea right?

I think we're all searching for that elephant in the room. But there's only one way to find him... you gotta have faith in the King. He's the only one that can see the whole picture. Otherwise, we're just a bunch of blind men bumping into each other.

Steve Jobs

I don't really know anything about Steve Jobs. I knew that he was the CEO of Apple. I knew he was brilliant. I knew that he had a profound impact on our history. But beyond that, I can't say that I knew anything about the guy and I'm not going to write about him like I did.

Instead, I want to write about everyone's reaction to his death. Facebook, twitter, Yahoo and Drudge were instantly buzzing with the news once Apple updated their website with this photo. Everywhere you look online tonight you will find amazing quotes and testimonials about a man who lived life without fear of failure, a man who constantly strived for excellence. It's a pretty amazing legacy.

What I liked about Steve Jobs was that I didn't know anything about him and he seemed to like it that way. He was private about his family and his personal life. In today's ridiculous reality-show driven culture, a celebrity who liked to keep his personal life private was refreshing. That spoke about how classy he must have been.

So there you have it... my memorial to Steve Jobs... he seemed like a pretty regular guy, which means he was truly loved and will be truly missed.

Addicted

This Sunday was WAY better than last week. I can't begin to describe how good it was to worship with a church family again. I was welcomed into the sanctuary this morning, baby and all, with a "the-more-the-merrier" attitude. My daughter had a great time in the nursery. All in all, it was a wonderful experience.

As I was sitting in the service today it came to the time for communion and I just felt this deep sense of relief. Its like that feeling you get when you've gone without caffeine for a day and finally get that jolt running through your body that makes you go, "Ahh, that's better."

I kinda laughed at myself, in my head of course (can you imagine how weird it would look if I had laughed out loud), and thought, "I'm addicted to communion". What a lovely thing to be addicted to!

Communion has long been my favorite part of the worship service. And the more we move around the more powerful it becomes. It gives me a few minutes out of my crazy week to remember just how BIG our God is and how widespread his body is. Every Sunday I think to myself, "My family in Castlemilk ate at this table today. My LCC tribe ate at this table today. My friends in Colorado, Honduras, Bolivia, Africa, and numerous other places in the world will come to eat at this table today."

For those few minutes, I remember that I'm part of something much bigger than myself, something awesome, something eternal. And no matter what the week held or what the future week will hold, those few minutes are set aside to remember the sacrifice Christ made for me. For those few minutes, I'm reminded that I'm not alone.

Ahh, what a sweet addiction...

One big, happy family?

Today I was escorted out of the main sanctuary in church because I had a baby with me. When I gave the attendant a quizzical look his response was, "You know, to cut down on distractions in the service."

He then proceeded to lead me to the "family room", which doubled as a cafe. He said I could watch the service from the plasma screens posted in the cafe. People all around were munching on food, drinking coffee, talking amongst themselves and a hula class was happening in the courtyard located directly behind the screens. Talk about distracting...

Anyway, as the attendant left me there on my own, I started crying. I was crying because I had been looking forward to going to church all week. I desperately wanted to worship with a church family. I wanted to sing loudly, pray together and sit next to someone who didn't need their diaper changed. For one hour out of the week, I didn't want to worry about unpacking our house, or cleaning laundry or finding ways to sneak veggies into my daughter's diet.

But I was told I could not take part in that.

I was heartbroken. After crying for a bit all by myself, I tried to justify what had happened to me. I tried to understand it. I tried to tell myself that I shouldn't let it get to me.

But that's not true. It's okay, and even right that I'm angry about the way I was treated. I don't think that Jesus would be happy with anyone being asked to leave his sanctuary because someone thought they were a distraction. Wasn't that one of those "learn the hard way" lessons taught to the disciples? How are we still making that same mistake today?

I hope I never make someone feel the way I felt today. I hope that I am never so self-focused that I think that something I do will decide if someone does or does not come to a relationship with Christ. From what I've understood about the scriptures, they way to bring someone into a relationship with Christ is to love them like Christ. And I don't know about you, but I serve a BIG God, an AWESOME God. And if he wants a relationship with someone in that sanctuary, a crying baby isn't going to stop his Spirit from moving in their hearts.

Thankfully, neither will a pharisaical church, which is my one hope for the person who was seeking God at that church today.

Maybe it was the single mother I met in the nursing room. She stayed in there because it was quieter and she could listen to the sermon and take notes. I hope she connected with Christ today, despite being exiled from worshipping with a church family. I pray even harder that she finds a family that will accept her and her daughter rather than shoving them into a nursing room so they don't distract others.

Never Forget

Tomorrow marks the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. Ten years later, it still seems so unreal to me. Like everyone else, I remember every detail of the day. I was a senior in high school, sitting in Speech and Film class when my sophomore English teacher walked in and without saying anything, walked across the room and turned on the television. After 30 seconds, when we had finally processed that one of the towers of the World Trade Center had been hit, we watched in horror as another plane crashed through the second tower. Our world was never the same.

Of the people I went to high school with, about 1/3 of the students who were within a few years of me went into the military. That's kind of what you get in small town America. But the one beautiful thing that came out of 9/11 was that a day that was meant to tear our country apart, brought us closer together than ever before, and in a way that I've not seen since.

We were all hurt. We were all sad. We were all determined to never let it happened again. We all came together in confusion, in anger, in prayer. We were united.

Since that day 10 years ago, 9/11 has been declared a National Day of Service and Remembrance. I think that's a beautiful response. It is so easy to just get mad about the events of that day and the way they have changed our world. But we don't need to do that. Instead we can choose to remember that day by serving others.

I've been watching footage about 9/11 today and they don't tell stories about how people were seeking revenge on the attackers. They don't tell stories of hate. They tell stories of service. They talk about people who died that day because they chose to serve others rather than serve themselves.

Many people are serving in very official ways this weekend to remember 9/11. But even if you don't serve at a local charity, I encourage you to find a way tomorrow to serve someone else.

Make dinner for that single mom at your church, do yard work for your elderly neighbors, say a prayer for your nation's leaders. (Even if you don't like your leaders. That actually means you should pray for them even harder and more frequently.)

So ask yourself, how will you remember 9/11? Who will you serve? How can you make your world better? How could our world change if we made the decision to serve others for the next 10 years?

"Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms." 1 Peter 4:10

That's pretty cool.

After 12 long weeks, my hubby is finally home and we get to start our new journey in the Navy! On Monday morning a the oh so early, 4 am (...ugh) we begin our trek across the country to San Diego. It should be pretty interesting with a newborn and an 18 month old.

Anyway, the cool thing that I wanted to share with everyone was something that happened to my husband while at training in Fort Jackson. As you all know, he was out on manoeuvres when our son was born. We were able to talk to him briefly after the little one was born, but that was it until the end of the week. It was kind of a baptism by fire for military life.

In the Navy they give out coins for different ceremonial occasions, excellence, etc. For example, the hubs got a cool looking coin when he was commissioned. Well, after the baby arrived on the scene the Commanding Officer at Fort Jackson awarded Bryan with a coin for excellence for the services he gave while his son was being born. It is a really cool way to recognize the sacrifice sailors make for their country.

But the hubs wouldn't tell me why he received the coin until her got home. He got home in the middle of the night, but the next day he dug the coin out of his bag and told me why he was awarded the coin and then he gave it to me. He said he was really proud of me and thought I deserved it more than he did. And although I am sure that's not true (he really deserves it), I was extremely humbled by the gesture. It was way better than flowers. It was even better than chocolate (and THAT is saying something!).


So that is the story of how I have acquired my first Navy coin, even though I'm not in the Navy. Pretty cool, huh?

Wow... just, wow.

I've been trying to find a way to describe my feelings over the past two weeks and I still can't figure out how to say it, but here it goes. I'm overjoyed, heartbroken, excited, nervous, energized and exhuasted. I'm a walking paradox.

OnAugust 2nd, we welcomed our beautiful son into this world. When my daughter was born I was amazed at how much I could love someone I had just met. And now I've felt the same thing again for my son. He's the coolest little guy in the whole world and I love him more than I could ever explain.

I was scheduled to be induced at 10:30 that morning but he decided to come all on his own. I started having contractions at 12:30am, my water broke at 4am, my epidural kicked in at 6:20am and he was here at 7:03am. I was so glad to be able to share the experience with my mother-in-law, my mom and my grandma, but I wish that my husband could have been there. Even though my mom was holding my hand and relaxing my shoulders and telling me to breath, I just kept my eyes closed and imagined I was holding my husband's hand. It's the one thing that kept me calm and focused until the epidural kicked in!

When we called the Gunny to pass the message along he let me talk to Bryan and tell him myself. I was crying, the mothers and grandma were crying, the nurses were crying, and I think even my stoic, slightly Vulcan-esque doctor shed a tear. And our sweet son, who was wailing, stopped crying as soon as he heard daddy's voice. It was a moment I will never forget.

Since then, we've had the movers out to our house to pack everything up, which was emotional for Maw maw more than anyone else. She is going to be so sad to be so far from her grand babies again. But at least this time we are in the same country!

Then, on top of everything else, I heard news that a dear friend of mine, a colleague from my work in Glasgow, passed away suddenly. It hit me hard. I'm still struggling with the fact that I'm never going to see Joyce again. It's difficult to imagine someone with so much life in her is now gone completely. She was a great friend and the best colleague you could ask for.

All of this and a looming move across the country has made for a whirlwind of emotions. It has made me very thankful for the thick skin I grew while in Scotland. But even my Scottish stoicism has let me down a few times these past two weeks. not that that's bad... I have good reason to be emotional. It just goes to show how crazy our life has been lately.

In eleven days we will pack up and move to San Diego. I am so excited to see what God is going to do there. I can't wait to begin our ministry. I know it will be hard, but the things in life that are most rewarding are also the things that are most difficult to face.

I'm sad to be leaving our family, friends, and our church again. We've grown especially close with our church this past year. I mean, we grew up in that church so we've always been super attached to it, but it was cool to be a part of the LCC tribe as adults rather than teenagers. It was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life to help with the youth, the nursery, the prayer partner program and the house groups.

In the craziness of the past two weeks I have definitely learned one thing. I am blessed beyond description. Most people in this world are lucky to have the love and support of one person. In the past two weeks I have seen love poured out over my family from our family, close friends, a church full of people, and friends from half way around the world. It has been amazing. I don't know what we ever did to deserve such good fortune, but I am so thankful for it.

What will God do next? I don't know, but I can't wait to find out.

Peace

With the weekend quickly coming to a close I am coming to terms with the probability that my son will not come until I'm induced on Tuesday. The thought of that being the case terrifies me because it means that he won't be able to join us via Skype or even on the telephone. He's out in the field next week and is unreachable. I can't even talk to him on the phone afterwards to tell him his son was born. The most I can do is call the number for his Gunnery Sergeant and leave a message that his son was born and ask that he pass the message along.

The thought of having this baby without him physically here was hard enough. But facing the likely situation of him not being present AT ALL is nearly unbearable. I mean, when I found out that they couldn't induce me until Tuesday, I literally broke down in tears in the parking lot and had to sit there and cry it out for 5 minutes before I could even drive home.

I've been trying to face the fact that this situation is highly probable and figure out a way to deal with it so that I'm not overwhelmed by the reality of it on Tuesday. And I can't quite come to grips with it. I don't know how I'm going to handle it in the moment. We'll have to wait and see.

But here are the things I do know:

#1: I'm not the first person to ever go through this. I don't know how military wives of the past survived without the technology we have today. I can't imagine only being able to communicate with my husband via letters and an occasional phone call. So while my situation my not be ideal, other women have been through far worse and lived to tell the tale. If they can do it, I can do it.

#2: This is harder on my husband than it is on me. My husband hates feeling like he can't take care of us and even though what he is doing now is the best thing for our family, I know that the idea of not being here is killing him. He would never admit that to me because he's being strong for me. He's being supportive and loving and encouraging because that's just who he is. But I know him. I know this is the hardest thing he's ever had to do. However unbearable this seems to me, it's a thousand times worse for him.

#3: This could be an answer to prayer. You know how I've said "Be careful what you pray for" ? Consider this a prime example. My prayer throughout our time apart has been for God to use this situation for His purposes. Now, I don't know what his plans are. Maybe the nurse who will be taking care of me on Tuesday needs to see God working in someone's life more than the nurse who would have taken care of me tonight. Maybe this will help me to build bridges with other military wives as we work to minister to their husbands and families.

#4: God is bigger than my problem. He has proven this over and over again in my life. He has taken care of us when we had no home, no money and no food. He has always given us what we need, never what we want and at the end of the day we've always been grateful for that. If He has always been faithful in the past, I will not doubt him now.

I'm scared out of my mind. I don't want to do this without my husband. But this is the life we've chosen. This is the life we've been called to. And I just need to make my peace with that. For now, I will thank God for the beautiful daughter I have, and my wonderful husband and our son who will be here very soon. Even if I'm terrified to face Tuesday without my husband, I'm incredibly blessed. And maybe that's the lesson I'm meant to take away from this whole thing.

It's prayer, not a potion.

First off, sorry for the hiatus. My baby sister got married last weekend and preparation for the big event pretty much took up all of my free time. The event also brings me to the point of this post.

As you all know, I am SEVERELY pregnant. On the day of my sister's wedding I was due in 12 days. For anyone who knows my sister, having that kind of wild card hanging over your wedding plans is pretty much your worst nightmare.

So she started praying. And then she asked my grandma to pray, and my aunt, and her bridesmaids, and then everyone on the planet who even slightly believed in prayer to pray that I wouldn't have the baby right before or during her wedding ceremony.

Of course, once her big day came and went, everyone started praying the opposite direction! When I woke up this morning, still pregnant, still going through false contractions and cramping and just regular miserable-ness, my aunt said to me on facebook, "I think we all prayed too hard for you to not go into labor!"

My response: "Geez Sue, it's a prayer, not a potion." As if God were storing up all of those prayers in some cauldron in heaven and said, "Nope, she can't have that baby yet. I still have 18 'No labor' prayers to get through before we can start on the 'Yes labor' prayers."

Don't get me wrong, I don't think my aunt thinks of prayer in this way at all. I think she was just being cute. But so many people, church people included, do see prayer this way.

Why? Why do we constantly treat God this way? I'm guilty of it just as much as the next person. I know there have been times in my life when I have prayed so hard for something to turn out one way and it turns out another way. And all faithless little me can say is, "Why are you being so mean, God?"

I have to be reminded that it's not a magical incantation. Saying a prayer doesn't mean I have the power to turn God into my personal genie. Saying a prayer is talking to God. It's about spending time with the creator of the universe. It's about laying my burdens and worries on his shoulders rather than holding onto them all myself. It's about working on a personal relationship.

Sometimes that's hard to remember. I think the next time I sit down to pray, I'll tell him that I need help remembering the true purpose of prayer. I bet it will be on of those things that make my life better.

Umm, you're not a doctor.

I've been know to have really weird dreams. If my dream doesn't involve a dinosaur or Chuck Norris, it's usually pretty tame. Well, last night's dream didn't have Chuck Norris in it, but it was still up there on the weird-o-meter.

I dreamt that I bought my home minister's son, we'll call him Claudius Helpop, a new pair of jeans for his birthday. Now, these weren't just any jeans, but top of the line, all the cool kids are wearing them, jeans. Claudius had told me he really wanted them and I think he's a pretty good kid and I had some extra money so I figured, 'What the heck?'

The only problem is that Claudius is in between sizes. (He is a growing boy after all.)So the pair I got him were a little big. But we wanted them to be perfect for when school started back so I told him I'd take him out to the shops to get them altered so they fit him perfectly for the beginning of the school year.

So when I go pick him up, his dad, Horatio, tells him, 'Claudius, you have to stay with Amanda at all times. That's the only rule.' Of course, once the jeans were fixed, Claudius took off with some of his friends at the mall and I went into labor and had the baby. Go figure.

When I woke up in the hospital  Horatio was there wearing a white coat and holding a chest x-ray. He looks up at me and says, 'Well, everything looks just fine here.' And I said, 'Uh, Horatio, you're not a doctor.'

Then I woke up. I know I usually try to tie this into some sort of God lesson, but in this case I'm just going to leave it alone. I think the lesson is: pregnant women have weird dreams.

Honey, I don't think you're gonna make it.

So, I was at Subway last night getting my favorite sandwich, an Italian BMT with provolone, toasted with extra spinach, tomatoes and oil (btw... the description was thrown in there in case anyone wants to bring me one when I'm in the hospital. Sorry, I don't do subtlety.) and the man in line after me says, "when are you due to pop?" I looked at him with disappointment and said, "Not for another four and a half weeks." His eyes opened wide and he shook his head and said, "Honey, I don't think you're gonna make it." And I don't know why, but I had the strongest urge to give this man a hug. Don't worry, I settled for thinking in my head, "Thank you Mr. Stranger at Subway Man, thank you."

I guess I just needed a little bit of encouragement that this wasn't going to last forever and this stranger was the person God sent to remind me of that. I kind of wonder if he will ever know how encouraging he really was.

Anyway, it got me thinking about why I was so emotional about that yesterday. I know that I'm naturally a bit on the crazy side and the pregnant hormones don't help, but for a brief few hours there yesterday, I was feeling particularly vulnerable. Sometimes the whole weight of things just seems to come crashing down on us.

The more I thought of my kind Subway stranger the more I thought about my situation. Some time within the next month I will give birth to our son and my husband will not be there. (Talk about heavy.) And if that's not enough, within the next two months I will once again pack up my family and move far, far away from our loved ones and our support system, following the calling God has placed on my husband and our family. (Getting heavier...) And we will once again be thrown into a completely new culture with it's own customs, rules, regulations and expectations which we will just be expected to know and understand.  (Seriously, by this point I should be investing in one of those lifting belts.) To top things off, my husband will be working with soldiers. These are people who have to face the horrors of war that us civilians cannot begin to fathom. My husband's job is to counsel them, guide them and support them so that they can continue in their difficult field of service. (And by this point I just look like the wimpy kid in gym class who got stuck under the barbells.)

I'm not totally crazy though am I? That's an awful lot of weight to bear, isn't it? It's hard to remind myself that I don't have to carry all that weight. I have friends and family that are here to help. Like my sister-in-law who can research places to rent and neighborhoods better than any real estate agent in the country. She can tell you how far a place is from work, what the schools are like and the nearest location to purchase a blue slushie. But even more impressive than her slushie finding abilities is the strength we find when we just let God hold these weights.

I don't know why we fight him on this so often. You wouldn't see the wimpy kid in gym class tell the totally buff varsity wrestler guy who offered to help pick up the barbells say, "No thanks dude, I got this." So why do I try to do everything on my own? I think it's because total surrender to God is a lot more difficult than it sounds. It's one thing to sing about it on Sunday morning... it's completely different to put it into practice on Monday morning. To totally trust someone with everything, especially when the road he sends you on doesn't appear to make much sense; that's a scary thing. It's easier to say, "No thanks dude, I got this." But ultimately, that's really dumb on our part. Like, monumentally dumb. I mean, if we can't put our trust in God, who sacrificed everything so that we could join him in eternal life, then who can we trust? Honestly, we're just plain stupid sometimes.

So today, I am going to hand things over to God. He's better at handling this stuff anyway. And I'm going to pray for the strength to hand them over again tomorrow. After all, God has really big muscles and I'm just a wimpy kid on the right team.

Hey kettle, this is pot... you're black.

I consider myself to be a vigilante on wheels. There are few things in this world that irritate me more than rude drivers. Excessive speeding, not signaling, tailgating... these are just a sampling of things that drivers do all the time that are completely unnecessary and just plain tick me off.

The worse thing about my road rage is that it turns me into someone I am not. I mean, it starts out harmless enough. First I grit my teeth, then I start sighing heavily (as if they can hear the frustration in my breathing),  then I start talking to myself with saying like "people are crazy" and "i just don't understand...".

You know it's starting to get bad when I begin talking to the other drivers. I don't know why we do this, but I think everyone at some point or another has done it. Maybe we're all just a little bit crazy. First I try to reason with them by saying things like, "are you sure you want to try that buddy?" or "see, now wasn't that a stupid decision?" But when I really start to get irritated, that's when the name calling begins.

Luckily, I now have a child which has forced me to clean up my road rage language. On our recent trip to watch my husband's graduation from ODS in Rhode Island, I started yelling at other drivers and my sister turns to me and says, "Hey, since when did you stop calling people a (insert colorful adjective followed by humorous expletive)?" Well, kids will do that to you. Especially when they start repeating things that you say. Anyway, my old phrases have been replaced with words like "jack wagon",  "jerk-face" and "son of a gun".

So I start screaming at the "jack wagons" on the road and then I put forth my own sense of justice. Like speeding up so I can get in front of them and then go to pass a truck and slow down to match the speed of the truck. I usually stay this speed till I see them throw their hands in the air in frustration so i know they have experienced the same feelings they so kindly bestowed upon me. My other favorite is to  pull my car into the middle of the far left lane and the middle lane when drivers are warned to merge right because the left lane is ending. Sorry pal, you need to get over when the sign tells you to rather than cut me off at the last moment because you wanted to pass another car. This is usually followed by my other form of justice so they learn patience.

See, now when I'm on the road, I feel almost like it's my duty to treat other drivers like this. And anyone who's gone on a long car ride with me as the driver usually finds it pretty humorous. But really, I'm just being a jerk. I think I'm so much better than everyone else on the road because I don't consider myself a rude driver. But in trying to teach the rude drivers of this world a lesson, I become even worse than they are. Perhaps I should just be a courteous driver all the time. Even if it doesn't teach the rude drivers a lesson, I'm sure it will teach my children a lesson. And I'm even more convinced it will teach me a lesson.

Amanda versus the loneliness

So my husband has only officially been in the Navy for a few weeks. He's been at officer training school for almost a month and I am slowly figuring out this whole Navy wife life thing. Thus far, this is what I have learned:

#1: It is really hard to be the only parent. I don't know how single parents do this all the time. I'm so glad that I only have to be away from my husband for a short period of time. And even in the future when he will face deployment, I will know that he'll come home at some point. The single parents who do this day in and day out without any respite are my heroes. And I have lots of help too. I have a great church and an amazingly supportive family to help me. So many people don't have that. I'm guessing a lot of military families don't have that. I hope that I can be of help in that arena at some point in this ministry.

#2: Technology is a life saver. My hubby video taped himself reading books and singing songs for our daughter before he left and they have been invaluable! She looks forward to her song from daddy every morning. And the nights he's able to video chat with us makes life more bearable.

#3: Nothing helps me sleep. I wish I could take some magic pills to fall asleep but they kind of frown on that when you're pregnant. As much as I complained about my husband's snoring and kicking, I now find myself unable to fall asleep easily without him beside me. Go figure.

#4: I'm really proud of the man I married. I've made a lot of stupid decisions in my life time. Like that time in 3rd grade when I thought it would be a good idea to get a perm... it wasn't. But one of the best decisions I've ever made was choosing to marry my husband. Despite being away from his family while his wife is in her 3rd trimester and not being able to spend any time with his unbelievably cute daughter, my husband is concerned about the men and women he's with at training. He's been working to build relationships and has encouraged some to make better decisions for their life. And when he sees people making destructive decisions, it breaks his heart. It's the quality that has always made him a good friend and the reason I knew he would be an excellent Chaplain. I love that I married this man. There are not many of his kind around.

#5: And finally, in my lonely, sleepless nights I've learned that the show "Chuck" is one of the best around. Seriously, I'm madly addicted to it. If you haven't watched it yet, you should. Adam Baldwin is my hero. If you're already a "Chuck" fan, you understand my title and we are officially best friends.

Just like mommy.

My daughter got a purse today. Her very own, just her size purse. She thinks she's so cool because she can wear it on her shoulder just like mommy. The other day when I was getting ready in the bathroom after taking a shower, she pulled out one of the hand towels and knotted it into a ball and put it on her head. I guess she thinks I wear a funny hat when I get out of the shower. Again, she just wanted to do whatever mommy was doing.

If mommy eats veggies, she eats veggies. If mommy drinks water, she drinks water. If mommy plays on the computer, she gets out her "computer" and sits to play on hers as well.

It made me think, what else does she watch me do? My guess is: everything. She watches my every move. She mimics every behavior. It's kind of a scary thing, to think that you have that much control over one person, even if that person is only 16 months old. You know why? Because she won't always be 16 months old, but the lessons I teach her now and in the next few years will play a huge role in forming the kind of person she will become. It's pretty heavy stuff.

I hope that she sees things like mommy always buckling her seat belt, mommy giving to people in need, mommy saying a prayer at bed time. But I know that that's not all she'll see. She'll see some of the bad things too. Like the fact that I almost always have chocolate hidden in my purse and will sneak a bite of it after telling someone that I'm not hungry. I'm almost always hungry, and that's not a pregnancy thing. That's an Amanda thing. Most of the time when I refuse food it's because it has some sort of vegetable in it. I know I'm a child. Anyway, she'll see that too. But I hope she doesn't mimic me in that respect.

I guess that's all we can do really. We can try our best to be good examples to our kids. Hopefully it will make us better people in the process. And we have to beg the gods that they don't find out about that time when we stole a pack of gum from the store when we were their age. I hope I can set a good example for her. I hope we all can set good examples for our kids. And I REALLY hope they are better people than us.

It's kind of like a garage sale... where you don't make any money.

In the aftermath of the E5 tornado that hit Joplin, MO our church is working with another area church collecting items for a relief trip that will head out to the disaster area on Memorial day. We've been working hard over the past two days to get people to donate items for us to take with us. We've even had lots of local businesses participate by donating goods or giving us gift cards that we can use to purchase goods ourselves. It's been pretty amazing.

I've seen some really amazing things happen when God takes control of a situation. I've seen a church built in Honduras. I've seen a basement wall re-built in Mansfield, Ohio. I've seen a family given a home when theirs was unlivable. I've seen people serve as foster parents for my brothers when times were hard for my family. I've seen a little girl who wasn't supposed to live more than a few weeks celebrate her birthday over and over again.

I've watched God provide for my family when I gave on faith and faith alone. He's proven it time and time again. I had a friend recently post a quote on facebook that read "maybe the amazing thing about amazing grace is the chance we have to give it away... and maybe that's what love is all about".

So my challenge to you is this: give on faith. Give the clothing that you were going to put in your garage sale. Perhaps you need that money... trust that God will take care of it. Or maybe, you'll find out you didn't need that money after all, but a baby in Joplin needed clothes. Instead of going to see a movie, go buy a pack of diapers and some toilet paper. I mean, how uncomfortable would you be if you suddenly had no toilet paper? Yikes!

If you believe about God, what you say you believe about God, then why hesitate when an opportunity is presented to you to show his love to someone else. Maybe God is trying to draw you into a closer relationship with him. The question you have to face is; "Is that really what I want?" It's a hard question to face honestly. But f your answer is truly "yes" then your path is pretty clear.

Here's a list of items that are needed right now. If you're in the Mansfield area they can be dropped off at Lexington Church of Christ or Ontario Christian Church. The team is leaving Monday. You can also donate funds to my friends already working in Joplin at http://www.Josh-walker.com/ .

Clothing (all sizes including underwear)
Toiletries*
Blankets*
Towels*
Trash Bags
Non-perishable food items
Hair products for African Americans
Peanut butter
Jelly
Diapers*
Baby formula*
Baby food*
Baby wipes*
Laundry detergent
Pain relievers
Duct tape
Tarp
50 count paper plates
Denture products

*Items are the most pressing need at the moment. We DO NOT need bottles water right now.

Be bold. Make a difference. Trust that God is bigger than your garage sale.

There are no words.

I've been struggling all week to think of something clever to say about the hubs leaving for the next 12 weeks. He always tells me that if I was ever to let people "hear" to real me through my blog then it would be wildly popular. I think he thinks I'm cooler than I actually am.

Anyways... I've been trying to think of a way to live up to his expectation by thinking of a funny analogy or a cool story or something to explain the way I'm feeling. What I've come to realize is... that way does not exist. This is not one of those situations where I cannot tell a funny story and it somehow leads into, "Oh, and by the way, my husband is leaving tomorrow for 12 weeks and will miss the birth of his son. But it's totally okay because this is all a part of God's plan."

I've tried really hard to keep my spirits up this week, especially for my husband's sake. I don't want him to see me struggling. I call this my "Scottish stoicism". It comes from when we were preparing to leave Scotland and said our goodbyes to a lady in our church. We said to her, "Oh Caroline, we wanted to give you a hug because this is our last Sunday with you." (She was going to be on holiday when we left so we had to say farewell to her earlier.) She gave us an odd look, an awkward sideways hug and said, "Alright then" and walked away. And while some would take this as rudeness, we understood that this was just how a lot of people acted over there. They aren't nearly as emotional as Americans. So, when faced with an emotional situation, I try to summon my inner Scotsman.

Well, now I'm starting to ramble. I guess, I've been trying so hard to be strong and make light of the situation and now I realize... there is no need. It is a serious, emotional situation. It is okay for me to feel nervous about my husband being away from his 1 year old daughter for that long. It's okay for me to be scared about delivering our son without him there to hold my hand. There's nothing wrong with me feeling that way. There's nothing wrong with him knowing that I feel that way. There's nothing wrong with crying to try to feel better about it. It's a tough situation.

So, I know that this is only for a season. I know that I have an unbelievable support system here while he's away, which is more than most have. I know that God will use this to help us minister to others later in our lives, and that is way cool. Despite all of that, my heart is still breaking. My daughter is without her dad all summer long and I'm without my husband and it is okay, and even right, that I'm sad about that.

In short, I'm sorry that I don't have anything funny or clever to say for this post. But I do have an encouraging thought. So far in my life, God has used every difficult situation in my life to bring others closer to him. And anyone who knows me well, knows that there are some real horrors in my life. In spite of all those dark situations, God was good. He was good then, He is good now and He will be good again tomorrow.

Things I never thought I'd say

It's funny how life changes when you have kids. Today I told my daughter "please stop punching mommy in the throat". When she didn't listen and was instead put down in her crib for a nap, I thought to myself 'now that's a sentence I never thought I'd say.' This goes along with "please take the fig out of your nose", "stop eating the ladybugs" and "how did you get Cheerios in your diaper?".

The books don't tell you about the trials of prying dandelions out of your kids' mouth or how the number one thing to look for in baby furniture is how easily it can be cleaned after your kid poops all over over it. These are the things you learn along the way. Nothing can prepare you for it and no one can give you a strong enough warning about it because when people tell you these things when you don't have kids you think to yourself 'well my kid won't act like THAT... I'll know how to handle it.' And just so you know, when you suffer through these funny little trials after we've warned you, a part of us is laughing at you when you say, "I never thought it would be this hard!" It's like when you go out to eat and the server tells you, "be careful, that plate is hot" and you touch is and say "Ouch! That's a hot plate!" Well, of course it is you dummy!

Anyways, I digress. I just think it's funny that having children makes your life so totally unpredictable. I never thought I'd tell my child to 'please stop eating the wood chips', but I've totally said that... more than once. Maybe we'll survive the crazy, ever changing lifestyle of the Navy after all. It can't be any more unpredictable than the adventures we go through with our children. Right??? BTW, it appears that we are now going to San Diego rather than Okinawa... funny huh?

Don't lick the electrical sockets!

Let me start out by saying the very obvious 'Happy Mother's Day'. I know it's sappy and a little 'Hallmarky' but seriously, thank you our moms. Whether your mom was the greatest thing since sliced bread, or the person who taught you not to lick electrical sockets, or just a woman who gave birth to you; they all deserve a thank you for bringing us into this world. They didn't have to do that. They could have chosen otherwise and the fact that they didn't gives us something to be thankful for.

Mother's day is different when you're actually the mom. In so many ways, it's totally awesome. For example, when our daughter woke up at 6:30 this morning instead of her usual 7-7:30 or her even nicer 9 am of yesterday, my husband said, "I'll get her. You sleep in."And if you know me, you understand how much I love this simple little gift. I love to sleep. I'm slightly obsessed with it. I know that sounds weird but it's true. I'm a bit crazy about tracking the number of hours I've slept and the number of hours my husband has slept and pointing out how they don't measure up. (Mainly, that he slept 30 minutes longer than I did... for shame!) Yeah, I know... crazy. But the point is, letting me sleep in is the best gift my husband could get for me and I really appreciate it.

So then I wake up and get my daughter ready for church, but she's super cranky so I put her down for a nap before we go in so she won't be mean to other children in the nursery. And I'm left with some free time in a quiet, empty house (the hubby has already gone in for praise team). Of course, I get on facebook to check out what's going on and read everyone's comments about mother's day. It's really great to see so many wonderful moms getting spoiled this morning. I know how hard they work, usually with no recognition, and it's great to see that today, their kids have gone above and beyond to show them how special they are.

One of these women is our home minister's wife. She has got to be one of the most amazing people I know. She has four beautiful kids (inside and out), she does everything around church, from praise band to youth work and everything in between, and she is still an out-of-this-world, awesome mom. She helps out with her kids' school as a volunteer. She makes the most amazing halloween costumes every year, which is going to be something really special that her kids will always remember about her. She makes each child feel like they are the most precious thing in the world on their birthday. She always puts together a cool theme, per their request, that is totally homemade and beats the pants off of anything you'd find in a party specialty store. And after all of that, she finds time to encourage me and all of the other women in our church. She sends homemade cards, she makes phone calls... she's just plain amazing. She's one of the best examples of a mom and a woman of God that I can imagine and I want to be just like her.

That got me thinking, what kind of a mother am I? I like to think that I'm a pretty good mom. But then I get to thinking about my minister's wife and think... there's room for improvement. Now, I'm not saying this to be self deprecating. I'm honestly saying, I think I could do better. I'm a good mom, but I want to be a better mom. I'm a good wife, but I want to be a better wife. I'm a good christian, but I want to be a better christian. Looking at her, it's easy to think, "man, I suck." It's harder to say, that's what I want to be. I think it's the same way we look at Christ. It's easy to see his example and say, "I'm never gonna live up to that" and just give up. It's harder to say, "That's my goal and I'm going to do everything I can to achieve it."

I hope one day, I can be like my minister's wife. I hope my daughter  and son are thankful for more than me not letting them lick the electrical socket. I hope they see me as a teacher, an encourager, a friend, and their biggest supporter. I hope they see how much I love them. But even more, I hope I can be like Christ. I hope my children can see his unending love, his grace, and his mercy through my life. And I really do hope they don't lick the electrical sockets...

C'mon God, that's not fair.

So after ten months of this crazy interview process, my husband was finally accepted as an active duty Chaplain for the Navy. Now, all of a sudden, our lives have been turned upside down. I mean, it's now normal for me to wake up in the morning and ask my husband, "So, have our plans for our life completely changed since we spoke last?"

When he was accepted he was told that he would do ODS (his officer training school) May - June and his Chaplain school in September/ October. This suited me just fine. It meant that I could keep working at the bank until August when our son is due to arrive. Plus, it meant that my husband would be able to be here for the birth and the first month or two of our son's life. Then my husband got a phone call and all of our well-laid plans changed. Now he will be gone at training all summer. He will miss being the best man in a close friend's wedding, he won't be able to marry my sister and her fiance in July, and he'll miss the birth of his son. And if that stress wasn't enough, he will be moving his entire family (wife, daughter and newborn son) all the way to Okinawa. Let me tell ya, that is quite the introduction into military life.

Now, for those of you who know me personally, I always knew that this life was a possibility with my husband. Even when we were dating in high school he told me about his passion for serving in the military. I made a decision then to prepare myself for  that life in the event that I ended up marrying this boy. So as far as preparation for a crazy military life goes... I was ready.

But I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't ready to make plans for going to the hospital without my husband to deliver our child. I was prepared for moving our family right after the baby was born. I was ready for explaining to our daughter that daddy would be home in a few short months. But the whole "not being there for the birth of our son" thing rattled me. And when he's only a few weeks old we're moving to Okinawa! I mean, wow... that's pretty crazy right?

Then I remembered a prayer I said when we were living in Scotland. We had had a rough time of it when we first moved to Scotland. We didn't know anyone, how to set up a bank account, get an apartment, secure a job or purchase a phone plan. There were a few days where we literally lived on bread and butter sandwiches. It seemed pretty bleak. But we still had each other and we still had Christ and we knew that was the only important thing. I felt a strange sense of calmness about the whole thing. I knew that we were where God had placed us and that he would take care of us just when we needed it... and he did. And that night I prayed that God would always have me live a life that was fully devoted to him. I wanted to make sure that my life was impossible without Christ.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, be careful what you pray for! I'm just kidding! But seriously, Christ called us to pick up our cross daily and follow him. He never said it would be easy. He never said we'd always be able to drive a car, live in a nice house, eat pizza or even have our husband with us when we gave birth. But he did promise us a full life... a saved life. That's quite the return on our investment, wouldn't you say? So I realized that I don't want to give Jesus a discount Amanda. I don't want to hold any of me back for fear of the unknown. I'm all in. I want to see what this "full life" is really all about. "What good is it for someone to gain the whole world and yet forfeit their very self?" Luke 9:25.