I woke up this morning feeling compelled to write this post. Bear with me - this is going to be a long one.
I am a planner. No, actually I am more of a controller than a planner. I don't have to have a plan, but I DO have a need to be in control. If you know me, you recognize this as true. Believe it or not, it used to be worse.
To understand this story, you have to travel back in time almost 20 years. In 1992 I found myself, much to my dismay, divorced from my husband of 8 years and the single parent to a 3 year old daughter. That daughter, I would have been proud to tell you, was the product of a planned pregnancy. And when I say "planned" I do mean planned. As in, I decided what 6-month span I wanted my child born in, taking into consideration future birthday parties and school age cut-off dates, and I allowed myself 6 months to get pregnant. I went off the birth control pill a month before my scheduled "conception window" began and put my plan into action. In the third month of the plan, I was pregnant. Well, of course I was! I had a plan, I did what needed doing, and I got the desired result. I conveniently forgot to run that little "plan" past God, much less ask His approval or consider what might be His will. I just assumed that His will would naturally align with mine.
Nine months and an amazingly smooth pregnancy later (other than my baby's refusal to show her gender during ultrasound and her stubbornness regarding birth position), baby Dana was born. She was absolutely beautiful! Now, I grew up without siblings around me until I was 15, when my little brother was born. I made a point of telling all my family members how I wasn't going to have a huge gap between my children. Uh-huh. My plan was to have about 2, no more than 3, years between my kids. And I would have two of them, preferably one boy and one girl. I had it all figured out. And then came the day in October 1991 (the day before Halloween - yes, I remember) that my then-husband told me he wanted a divorce. For one of the first times in my memory, something was happening that I couldn't control. Oh, I tried. I bought a pitiful book about how to win back a spouse who didn't love you anymore and I put a "plan" into action. I prayed - oh, how I prayed! I prayed for God to bring him back to me - basically for God to enforce my will for me. That was a dark time in my life and I see now that I could have easily slipped into depression except that I had a small someone who was depending on me to get us both through the mess and into the clearing beyond. Complicating my grief at the loss of my marriage (which is - let's be honest- the loss of an entire future) was the fact that my husband's leaving reopened all the wounds from my own parents' divorce when I was 4. I had a wonderful stepfather and a mother who did the best she could in a bad situation, but a kid just doesn't come through that experience unscathed no matter how amicable the divorce may be. Maybe that's one of the roots of my need to be in control.
So I bought the book and I prayed for MY will to be done, and.... nothing changed. At least not right away. And when the change came, it wasn't in my situation - it was in ME.
Part 2: coming soon!
Friday, April 15, 2011
Thursday, April 15, 2010
It Only Takes One
There is a lady I know that I have served with on a committee. A few months ago, she dropped off the radar. She didn't return phone calls and simply disappeared from view, more or less. Then I saw her at the ball field last Saturday. We had always had a decent relationship and she asked if she could talk to me about why she dropped out of sight.
She started off by saying she wanted to talk to me because I was the only one in that group that she had never heard say a bad word about anybody. I felt good for about five seconds and then reality hit me because the truth is, I certainly HAVE said bad things about other people. Apparently this lady was just not around at the right time. She went on to say that she didn't like how our group seemed to spend the first 15 minutes of every meeting talking about other people. I don't remember every single instance but I believe it's true.
I'm sure it wasn't her intent but God used that conversation to humble and convict me. I gossip and I enjoy it, and it's wrong. What is it about gossip that is so attractive? Because it is, isn't it? It's simply delicious sometimes to have the dirt on someone! Is it the idea that tearing someone else down makes me look better? Is it the feeling of knowing something that not everyone else knows? Our culture today makes gossip seem harmless, part of the "everyone does it so it's not so bad" genre. There are entire TV shows, magazines and websites devoted to gossip alone. Previously when I've been made aware of my tendency to gossip I've had to look at friendships that seemed to encourage talking about others and wonder what on earth we'd have to talk about if we weren't talking about other people.
And what's the test of gossip? I've always heard that before you speak you should test your words: is it true? Necessary? Kind? Beneficial? I've also heard that last one as "uplifting" or "encouraging". I've also heard it said that if you are not part of the problem and you are not part of the solution, you have no business talking about it. I've heard that you shouldn't say something about another person that you wouldn't say if they were standing right in front of you. And there's always "do unto others as you would have them do unto you". Do the rules about gossip apply to celebrities too? The Bible says "May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Is what I say and think pleasing to God? Do a Bible search for passages about "words" and/or "mouth". It's an eyeopener!
Meanwhile, my talk with my friend shamed me on another level. If we as a group were truly off-base and spending so much time slamming other people, somebody should have spoken up and stopped it. Why didn't I? It only takes one person to say something like, "I don't think we should be discussing this. Let's talk about something else." At heart most people KNOW it's wrong to talk about others behind their backs and a gentle reminder will get them to stop. Silence implies consent. If you don't speak up everyone assumes you don't mind it, or that you agree with them. You don't have to be confrontational or judgmental, just redirect the conversation to something safer. And if you don't speak up, who will?
She started off by saying she wanted to talk to me because I was the only one in that group that she had never heard say a bad word about anybody. I felt good for about five seconds and then reality hit me because the truth is, I certainly HAVE said bad things about other people. Apparently this lady was just not around at the right time. She went on to say that she didn't like how our group seemed to spend the first 15 minutes of every meeting talking about other people. I don't remember every single instance but I believe it's true.
I'm sure it wasn't her intent but God used that conversation to humble and convict me. I gossip and I enjoy it, and it's wrong. What is it about gossip that is so attractive? Because it is, isn't it? It's simply delicious sometimes to have the dirt on someone! Is it the idea that tearing someone else down makes me look better? Is it the feeling of knowing something that not everyone else knows? Our culture today makes gossip seem harmless, part of the "everyone does it so it's not so bad" genre. There are entire TV shows, magazines and websites devoted to gossip alone. Previously when I've been made aware of my tendency to gossip I've had to look at friendships that seemed to encourage talking about others and wonder what on earth we'd have to talk about if we weren't talking about other people.
And what's the test of gossip? I've always heard that before you speak you should test your words: is it true? Necessary? Kind? Beneficial? I've also heard that last one as "uplifting" or "encouraging". I've also heard it said that if you are not part of the problem and you are not part of the solution, you have no business talking about it. I've heard that you shouldn't say something about another person that you wouldn't say if they were standing right in front of you. And there's always "do unto others as you would have them do unto you". Do the rules about gossip apply to celebrities too? The Bible says "May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Is what I say and think pleasing to God? Do a Bible search for passages about "words" and/or "mouth". It's an eyeopener!
Meanwhile, my talk with my friend shamed me on another level. If we as a group were truly off-base and spending so much time slamming other people, somebody should have spoken up and stopped it. Why didn't I? It only takes one person to say something like, "I don't think we should be discussing this. Let's talk about something else." At heart most people KNOW it's wrong to talk about others behind their backs and a gentle reminder will get them to stop. Silence implies consent. If you don't speak up everyone assumes you don't mind it, or that you agree with them. You don't have to be confrontational or judgmental, just redirect the conversation to something safer. And if you don't speak up, who will?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Unredeemed
There is a song on Selah's newest CD called "Unredeemed" that just touches me in some of those dark places that I thought I had left behind years ago. It talks about some of the bad things that can happen in life and how we so often don't understand why it's happening, but "when anything that's shattered is laid before the Lord, just watch and see, it will not be unredeemed."
When I was married the first time and we decided to have children, only three months into my six-month plan (and believe me, I had a plan) I was pregnant - right on schedule. When Jon and I got married in 1996 we waited a year or so before we started trying to have a baby, mindful of my advancing age. (It is really not fair that men can father children well into their dotage while women start being termed "older" mothers by their mid-30s) It ended up taking two years and the same number of fertility specialists for us to have K. Within two years of her birth I had had two miscarriages, the second of which required outpatient surgery. That particular pregnancy was a roller coaster from the beginning, moving from joy to despair to hope and finally to grief. I used to think my divorce was the worst pain I had ever felt, but it turned out to be a distant second to the physical and emotional pain of losing what would have been our baby girl (the doctor told us it was "perfect little baby girl").
Jon and I had agreed before we got married that we wanted to have one biological child and adopt another child, and in fact we had started the adoption process but had to halt it when we found out K was on the way. Once K was born we thought we might just have our second one the old-fashioned way because it was way less expensive (I'm not proud of that line of thinking, but it's true), and that never quite worked out. Just before K's third birthday we decided to start adoption proceedings again, and we chose China, for many, many reasons. Without going into great detail, I will just say that the baby girls of China had been on my heart since high school. Barely a year later we were in China bringing home our Q, a child that I have no doubt was chosen for our family by the hand of God himself.
Now, that's not to say that Q is a substitute for the children we lost because that's not fair to her at all. But would we have her if I had carried one of those babies to term? Probably not. I don't know what that all means except that in the end, all things work to the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).
At the very end of "Unredeemed" the lyrics go something like this: "It may be unfulfilled, it may be unrestored, but you never know the miracle the Father has in store; just watch and see, it will not be unredeemed." Whatever suffering you go through, whatever dark days you've lived, it will not be unredeemed. I am living proof.
When I was married the first time and we decided to have children, only three months into my six-month plan (and believe me, I had a plan) I was pregnant - right on schedule. When Jon and I got married in 1996 we waited a year or so before we started trying to have a baby, mindful of my advancing age. (It is really not fair that men can father children well into their dotage while women start being termed "older" mothers by their mid-30s) It ended up taking two years and the same number of fertility specialists for us to have K. Within two years of her birth I had had two miscarriages, the second of which required outpatient surgery. That particular pregnancy was a roller coaster from the beginning, moving from joy to despair to hope and finally to grief. I used to think my divorce was the worst pain I had ever felt, but it turned out to be a distant second to the physical and emotional pain of losing what would have been our baby girl (the doctor told us it was "perfect little baby girl").
Jon and I had agreed before we got married that we wanted to have one biological child and adopt another child, and in fact we had started the adoption process but had to halt it when we found out K was on the way. Once K was born we thought we might just have our second one the old-fashioned way because it was way less expensive (I'm not proud of that line of thinking, but it's true), and that never quite worked out. Just before K's third birthday we decided to start adoption proceedings again, and we chose China, for many, many reasons. Without going into great detail, I will just say that the baby girls of China had been on my heart since high school. Barely a year later we were in China bringing home our Q, a child that I have no doubt was chosen for our family by the hand of God himself.
Now, that's not to say that Q is a substitute for the children we lost because that's not fair to her at all. But would we have her if I had carried one of those babies to term? Probably not. I don't know what that all means except that in the end, all things work to the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).
At the very end of "Unredeemed" the lyrics go something like this: "It may be unfulfilled, it may be unrestored, but you never know the miracle the Father has in store; just watch and see, it will not be unredeemed." Whatever suffering you go through, whatever dark days you've lived, it will not be unredeemed. I am living proof.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Incredible Edible Erupting Volcano Cake
My sweet baby K just turned nine years old. I asked her what kind of treat she would like me to bring to school on her birthday to share with her classmates, expecting to hear cupcakes or cookies, or whatever. Here's the conversation:
Me: So K, would you rather have me bring in cupcakes or cookies for lunch on your birthday?
Her, with no hesitation (obviously she's already thought about this): I want a chocolate cake shaped like a volcano that shoots out chocolate frosting and edible confetti.
Me: What? A cake that shoots frosting out the top?
Her: Yeah. First it just looks like a cake and then boom! The frosting shoots out and oozes down the sides and the edible confetti blows out.
Me: Do they even make edible confetti?
Her: I don't know, but they should.
Me: Cupcakes it is.
No way was I going to attempt to construct an erupting volcano cake for the class but I was curious to know if such a thing was possible so I did what any self-respecting person did when in search of credible information: I Googled. Who knew how many varieties of edible erupting volcano cakes existed?!? I was well and truly floored.
Once I picked myself up off the floor, I formulated a plan. I decided to attempt to cobble together a few different recipes to create my own EEVC (I'm tired of writing it out already) but as a backup plan I would reserve the right to use the chocolate fountain for the molten lava. And I would serve this astonishing display of culinary magnificence at her birthday party.
The original conversation I had with K about the cake was just so cute I couldn't resist sharing it with anyone who would listen, and after that I *had* to make the cake to preserve my reputation.
On party day I put the cake together. It involved two chocolate cakes, one baked in a bundt pan and the other baked in a 2 quart glass bowl.
Then I stacked the bowl cake on top of the bundt cake. So far, so good. It does have a mountain-ish shape.
I took a glass out of my cabinet and cut a hole through the middle of both cakes then inserted a clean glass into the hole. It would have worked better if I could have found that skinny glass vase I just *knew* I had, but oh well.
Then I frosted the whole thing with a big batch of chocolate frosting, being especially generous between the two cakes to fill in the gap. And also to glue together the rather large "fault" I made in the top layer when I cut the hole in the middle. I even had enough frosting left over that I could have eaten some if I wanted to, not that I did. And if you believe that, I've got a beach house in Arizona I'd like to sell you.
You can see my lovely fruity glass in the middle, just waiting for showtime.
To simulate lava bursting from the top and oozing down the side, I followed one site's instructions to make lava drips from sugar, water, food coloring and corn syrup.
And then it was off to the store to buy dry ice. I had to do a trial run with the dry ice outside just to make sure it would work. I'd never played with dry ice before. Why did no one tell me about this little marvel?
I brought the marshmallow fluff "lava" along to the party. After the candles were blown out I put the dry ice in the glass in the middle of the cake and added some hot water to make "smoke". Then the "lava" went in with a little more hot water and we had our own miniature Pompeii. The birthday girl was thrilled and her friends were pretty stoked too! Check it out!
Me: So K, would you rather have me bring in cupcakes or cookies for lunch on your birthday?
Her, with no hesitation (obviously she's already thought about this): I want a chocolate cake shaped like a volcano that shoots out chocolate frosting and edible confetti.
Me: What? A cake that shoots frosting out the top?
Her: Yeah. First it just looks like a cake and then boom! The frosting shoots out and oozes down the sides and the edible confetti blows out.
Me: Do they even make edible confetti?
Her: I don't know, but they should.
Me: Cupcakes it is.
No way was I going to attempt to construct an erupting volcano cake for the class but I was curious to know if such a thing was possible so I did what any self-respecting person did when in search of credible information: I Googled. Who knew how many varieties of edible erupting volcano cakes existed?!? I was well and truly floored.
Once I picked myself up off the floor, I formulated a plan. I decided to attempt to cobble together a few different recipes to create my own EEVC (I'm tired of writing it out already) but as a backup plan I would reserve the right to use the chocolate fountain for the molten lava. And I would serve this astonishing display of culinary magnificence at her birthday party.
The original conversation I had with K about the cake was just so cute I couldn't resist sharing it with anyone who would listen, and after that I *had* to make the cake to preserve my reputation.
On party day I put the cake together. It involved two chocolate cakes, one baked in a bundt pan and the other baked in a 2 quart glass bowl.
Then I stacked the bowl cake on top of the bundt cake. So far, so good. It does have a mountain-ish shape.
I took a glass out of my cabinet and cut a hole through the middle of both cakes then inserted a clean glass into the hole. It would have worked better if I could have found that skinny glass vase I just *knew* I had, but oh well.
Then I frosted the whole thing with a big batch of chocolate frosting, being especially generous between the two cakes to fill in the gap. And also to glue together the rather large "fault" I made in the top layer when I cut the hole in the middle. I even had enough frosting left over that I could have eaten some if I wanted to, not that I did. And if you believe that, I've got a beach house in Arizona I'd like to sell you.
You can see my lovely fruity glass in the middle, just waiting for showtime.To simulate lava bursting from the top and oozing down the side, I followed one site's instructions to make lava drips from sugar, water, food coloring and corn syrup.
And then it was off to the store to buy dry ice. I had to do a trial run with the dry ice outside just to make sure it would work. I'd never played with dry ice before. Why did no one tell me about this little marvel?
I brought the marshmallow fluff "lava" along to the party. After the candles were blown out I put the dry ice in the glass in the middle of the cake and added some hot water to make "smoke". Then the "lava" went in with a little more hot water and we had our own miniature Pompeii. The birthday girl was thrilled and her friends were pretty stoked too! Check it out!
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