Why I Call You Mom

Momma. It is Mother’s Day, 2012, and I have no words. I mean… well, you know I have words. You’ve been living with me for fourteen years. But I can’t honestly express all that makes you what you are to me in a blog post. The idea in itself is… it is just plain weird. However, I write the post besides this fact because I have had a peculiar satisfaction in pointing to what’s mine and shouting “Look what I’ve got!” So there it is, then.

Look, everybody. This is my mom. :-)

You are in love with Jesus. Every day you are showing this to me. It is MAJORLY inspiring. To see you worship at church, or study your bible in preparation for speaking, or pray with the boys… Wow.

You are in love with Dad. Seeing you chat with him, about your many children, or the tie he is wearing, or WHATEVER- It makes me laugh. I want to love someone like you guys love each other, someday.

You love US. And you love that we are US, rather than just you and I and them. We are a family. The people who stay up together talking and eating goat cheese on Triscuits. I will always remember those chats. (And those Tricuits.) :-D I love you, momma. Happy Mother’s Day.

A Conversation with Myself :: The Man in the Mirror (is lookin’ FIIIIINE…)

Base Image Credit: MadameNoire.com (No affiliation.)

Really appreciate your dropping by today. I’d love to dig around your head a little.

No problem, friend. I usually blog this time of day, anyway. And… please don’t.

Fair enough. I’ll just ask you a couple questions instead. Sound good?

Shoot.

Well, first and foremost: What have you been reading lately?

Dickens, Orwell, Rowling, Tolkien, God. All very good, I must say. I reviewed a couple of them, too.

I’d heard. How goes the book blog?

Pretty well. I love reading, and writing, and coming up with funny names, so this seemed like the perfect outlet.

Or you could move to Europe.

This was cheaper.

Figures.

Exactly.

So What about writing? How’s that been for you?

Phenomenal. Again, I love writing- I write a blog, journal some- I’m working on a novel.

Cool. What’s it about?

Fantasy, storms, flight, creatures of all shapes, sizes, and blood types… Best case scenario, it’ll have a little bit of everything.

Huh. … Blood types?

Yeah, I don’t really know where I was going with that.

M’kay… ah… photography- I’ve heard your pretty mean with a camera.

Only if you try to take it from me.

I will keep that in mind. What, then, makes the perfect shot for you?

Beautiful things. Or mundane, I guess. It all depends on what kind of mood I’m in, what kind of lighting I’ve got… If I’ve had coffee recently.

Ever take pictures of your coffee?

You know it.

I guess I do. Well, we’ll have to do this again sometime. Thanks so mu-

We will.

What?

We will do this again sometime.

How do you know?

Ooh-ho-ho. Right. 

Until the next…

Anger :: Righteous, Birds, and Otherwise

Photo Credit: http://allyourcomputerneeds.blogspot.com (No affiliation.)

Little green piglets hide beneath shelters of glass, wood, and stone. Fearful glances are made at the skies above, from hence fly vengeful fowl, looks of hatred glimpsed moments before touch down. Pig slaughter ensues…

Modern day entertainment. It’s 2012, people- kids are over little yellow wedges that eat white balls whilst being chased by specters of the undead. (For those of you that were born after that aren’t old yet, I’m talking Pacman. For the sake of irony… Google it.) It’s delightful stuff, really. But besides having a fantastic soundtrack, Angry Birds is centered on my theme for this entire post: Anger.

What makes you angry? What, when mentioned, causes you to grumble, frown, and maybe throw whatever you are holding at the closest living target? Is it the government? Your junkie car that fails half the time you use it, and half the time you don’t? Golf on television? For me, it’s books with cruddy endings. (Pay attention, all you authors out there: This bothers me.) Sure, maybe it was artful, but he still died. Maybe it was heart-rending, but how can you see that as a good thing? Stories are meant to end well.

But honestly, there are a lot of things you are probably angry about that you don’t need to be, and even shouldn’t be. Don’t get me wrong: There are things to be angry about. Like Satan. Man I don’t like that guy. Or starving children. Drugs. Murder. All of these are on my “Things to be angry about” list. But the sibling that’s poking me because he wants a sip of my pop, or the gentleman on his bike who frowns on my silly choice of transport (walking) takes the backseat. Or should. (I’m working on it.)

Sin. Sin is bad. (I’m nailing these fundamentals today.) And I hate sin with a passion. This is called “Righteous anger.” It’s what God had when the Israelites mouthed off one two many times, and when they worshiped giant man-made cow statues. (These people were waaaay off base.) It’s what happens when good looks at evil and says, “That is just nasty.” Righteous anger is, as the name implies, right.

Then their are those other things. Your friend who complains about things you didn’t even know were issues. The little spoiled kid you see at Target, pestering his mom for one more box of chocolate cereal because he reallyreallyreally wants the prize inside. Those annoying, bothersome, Oh, Ratzafratzin… moments. (Do you use Ratzafratzin? Am I the only one who does that?) But these aren’t things to get angry about- These are things you can change. A massive part of this is just setting a better example. If you can’t… you are probably bothering someone too.

Basically, and this is gonna’ sound weird, but I think you’ll get it: Get angry at the right things. Monitor in yourself what makes you mad, and change it, if necessary. Until the next…

What makes you angry?

Use Your Gifts :: Nun-Chuck Skills

Photo Credit: http://cousinkovalev.blogspot.com

What is the best thing about a gift? What is the first thing you think when you open that package? WOW… this is mine. I get to use this. Isn’t that a great feeling?! (Unless, my friend, you receive skinny-wimpy-socks. Then… you’re kind of just stuck.) (On the contrary, if you are the type [as I happen to be] to ask for socks, and you receive awesome woolen lumberjack socks… Wear those babies with pride.)

And, believe me or not, God has given us all gifts. And not skinny-wimpy-sock gifts, either; you got the real deal. I’m talking about both spiritual gifts, as well as Napolean Dynamite’s nun-chuck skills kind of gifts. (If you have those… You are blessed, friend.) There are things you can do like nobody else can. (See Dancing with Llamas.) These are gifts, not just coincidences. When God formed you, he stood up above and said, “Not only will he draw, he will have amazing nun-chuck skills.” (If that happens to be your… gift.)

But your gift comes with a requirement. You have to use it. At least, according to… well, God. Look at Romans 12:6-8.

6 Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; 7 if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; 8 the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.

I have felt called in this way recently. I have the gift of creative ability. But sometimes [/too often] I neglect it. (It is so much easier to write a quick, witty Facebook post then to sit down and work on my WIP. [Work in progress.] Nobody Facebook-likes a WIP.) But I’ve always said that my goal is to honor God through writing. So I am sitting down and digging into it like I haven’t in weeks.

A summary of everything I’m trying to say, then, would be this: You have the gift of hospitality? Have people over. Creative ability? Use it. Intercessor? Pray like crazy. Sing. Dance. Skate. Paint. Whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. Until the next…

The In-Between Times :: A Picture Post

The weather has been alternating between cold, clear, rainy, clear, cold and rainy… back and forth, for days, the In-between times being ethereal, damp, and sunny. They’re my favorite. :-)

Fromage ball.

Z Feet.

"I want ta' look out the window."

"WOOOOOAAH."

"Guys, the light is crazy out there... let's go take some pictures."

Somebody LOVES taking pictures.

Baby-sitting kiddo number ____.

And one more of Z-dudes. I imagine he was saying something along the lines of "Soooooo... Are we done yet?"

Yep. We’re done, bud. And I love these in-between times. Until the next…

Splenda :: Say it like it is.

Have you ever tasted Splenda? They market it as the healthier sugar. It isn’t. It’s Splenda. Maybe you haven’t had it. It’s grainy, sugar like substance- until it’s in your mouth. Then? It tastes like Splenda.

I think you might have realized by now that I don’t like Splenda. I think you may have also realized, after reading my blog for as long as you have, (It doesn’t have to have been very long.) that I exaggerate. Pretty much ALL THE TIME. It’s just the way I am. I go to write a book review, and it is difficult for me not to just begin by saying, “AAAAAHH!!! It was SOOOO GOOOOOD!!!” (In fact, I think I may have done that once or twice. [A thousand times.])

I’m working on a novel. When I create a character, my first impressions of them are usually majorly exaggerated. Giant nose, tiny nose. Pumped, wimpy. Fat, skinny. (Think Norton Juster’s Canbe.) It takes some work to make them realistic. (Though realistic isn’t always what I’m going for.)

But you see, this is how I see everything. It’s kind of like six-year-old syndrome. “How was the game?” “We beat ‘em like a billion to zero, Ma! You should have seen my last hit; It tore straight through the fence!” For me, it’s always either the best, or the worst… at least, for the ten minutes after I do it. The most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. The best ice cream I ever tasted. You get the picture. (Best picture EVER.)

And I hope I see things like this always. I imagine (or hope) that it will help my writing. I see things greater, bigger, more amazing than they could ever be, at least in this world. I see the best in the average, the biggest in the big, and the infinitesimal in the small. I talk “sugar”, rather than “Splenda”. I don’t try to fake it. That skyscraper is really tall. I won’t tone down every word. That dog is pin-head small. And I will NEVER stop. Until the next…

Snow Day, Please?

Got up early for a morning run.

I stayed home and read.

More lovely weather from last night. As Pastor Bob Halvorson said, “Men are changed in the violent storm.” (Paraphrase. See Acts Chapter 2.)

Perspective shots from a photo class with Rachel Menge.

FB background? Check.

Now you got me all “Winter Nostalgic.”

Ah, well. I’ll survive.

Until the next…

Easter, Family, Life :: A Picture Post

No blog posts recently, and that’s okay. I have life to live. :-) Here are some pictures of it.

Eggception. (Happy Easter!)

Here are our plates @ Easter dinner. I was going to take pictures of the food, but there was a blur of grabbing hands, (some mine,) and it all happened so fast...

Z, in the hot tub @ The AmericInn where we vacationed. Love that kid. :-)

Through a hot tub window...

The Ball. (It is *the* ball.) You ever try keeping a toddler's attention for more than 30 seconds? Voila. This thing worked like MAGIC.

And a great topper to our vacation- I found the Lorax.

Was going to use this for a post about ideas and stories and generally just coolness, but I couldn't wait.

Until the next…

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