Self-Control (Or Lack Thereof)

Oh why oh why am I so slow to learn?

Slow to anger, slow to speak, why can't I be slow with these things?

I am totally embarrassed at my behavior, so immature, so childlike sometimes.

Last night someone said something to me that I felt was really unfair and unjustified. So I reacted. I jumped down my poor friend's throat and ruined the rest of what had previously been a nice night. I felt stupid and embarrassed at how I over-reacted. Saying something would've been ok, overreacting: not ok. Unable to flip a switch on my emotion I went to bed feeling feeling pretty rotten. Oh, and woke up that way too.

It all comes down to this: self-control. This is a fruit of God's spirit that I know is mine by the rights I have as a child of the King. His spirit is alive in me, and so with that I know and am assured in His word that I bear the same fruit

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control."
Galations 5:22-23

I find myself struggling over and over again in this area. Sometimes it's not controlling my emotions and reactions, other times it's participating in the gossip. Many times it's not being able to stop at one cinnabon, or half the bag of chips. You know what I'm talking about. A lack of self-control always ends in regret. Oh how I love cinnabons, but I overdue it almost every time. I know that I can't handle two without feeling totally disgusting after. Or this time of year it's chocolate (mini eggs) for most of us. I went through a season in which I refused to be a slave to anything and totally eradicated sugar out of my life. We now have treats every so often, but lately I haven't been able to handle even that.

Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. Or maybe I'm trying too hard. When I get in a rut like this it's SO easy for me to beat myself up over my mistakes. I focus on them until they consume most of my thinking. That's dangerous.

Wanna know the Truth? I am not perfect (I hear you gasping). I'm dirty and awfully sinful by my nature. I love myself and my flesh wants to satisfy itself alone. That's the yucky weed in me. But this is all very timely for me as we enter into Easter weekend. I know I'm sinful. I know alone I am nothing good. That's why I am so desperate for a Savior. I need to be saved from myself and the ugliness that surrounds me, lingering around like a black smoke seeking to rob and destroy (yes, like in Lost!) all who let it.

But I do the sacrifice of God in Christ, and Christ himself a great injustice when I take it all upon myself. He came to set us FREE, free from the chains that enslave us. Free from sin. Free from darkness!

So I will shift the focus off of myself and on to Christ. I am turning my focus to the cross. To the nail-pierced hands. To the miraculous, saving grace of a merciful, loving Heavenly Father who took my sin upon himself. I bring myself to the cross. I throw down these chains that so easily entangle me. And as I sink my roots down into good soil I know that there is and will living water to nourish me, and that there is and will be fruit on my tree.

Moody Mondays

It's true: Mondays are moody for me. I'm like a little firecracker and totally unpredictable. Some Mondays I wake up ready to get a good start to my week. I'm eager to press the coffee and switch the laundry. Eggs Benny for breakfast? My pleasure!

Other Mondays (and this is the norm. lately), I can barely drag myself out of bed, and the only reason I do is because my kids need fed. I don't shower until the afternoon and call it a "Jammie Day" for everyone (mostly so I don't have to make six trips up the stairs to assist getting dresses down from in the closet for certain little girls who think everyday is the perfect day for a "spinney dress", no wait, make that EVERY spinny dress!). My attempt at doing laundry is seeing how big of a pile I can make, clean or dirty. And I'm ok to just ignore the dishes from Sunday night that didn't get done because we had somewhere to be.

I'm happy, however, to inform you that today has been a productive and already satisfying Monday. And it all started with a shower!

We rarely make cookies containing sugar but once or twice a year we feel is ok (because they get enough junk other places). This week is special, it's Easter. And we want to celebrate it! So here are the girls bakingAnd I'm not sure what is so great about it, but they LOVE to sift!

(and for 2 ½ and 4 years old, they do a pretty good job)

And ROOOOLLLLL out that dough! Roll! Roll! Roll!

These cookies are special also because we are taking them to our special friends tomorrow to decorate together.

Also, Larissa is learning to read! We played the "Alphabet Hunt" game. That's when Mommy hides the letters and the girls find their set. Olivia makes a train, Larissa puts hers in order with such pride.

And how about that ladybug? They love their rain gear. We did have to incorprate a no umbrellas in the house rule though before someone lost an eye.Our moods are powerful. They can soar us high or sink us low. But I'm finding that our will is even mightier. I can let myself feel that blahs that often come with Mondays, or I can choose to make the most of today. To see today as a gift and to enjoy that gift.
It's sure not always easy to change my mood, but I feel encouraged today by the fun we've had. And it's not over, we still have delicious slow-cooked ribs to enjoy before heading out to gymnastics! Full days make me feel great!

Just Junk?

Do we all have a pile like this, or is it just me? I should be honest, don't let my little collection here fool you. These are just a few of the items I pulled out of the jar (it's more like a bowl, with a lid, it's pretty). The truth is I have a whole lot crap in little collection spots all over the house. I really don't think I'm a pack rat, though I do tend to keep rather then throw away (I'm getting better at it though), but when I realized that I have more than one spot for little random things like this I began to wonder why. So I looked at the items and found they all have one thing in common: hope.

I just can't bare to throw things away when I believe that they can still serve a purpose, or can be put back together. Am I weird and twisted? (maybe don't answer that yet). When you look at these things in the picture, what do you see? My husband would say that he sees garbage and would tell me to put it there! But I see an iPod that is filled with life-giving and inspiring messages, songs of love and freedom, joy and celebration. It's company for someone, or a distraction when needed. Ok, so it doesn't turn on, but someone can fix it and then it can still serve it's purpose, be useful, and maybe even a blessing.

Do you see where I might be going with this? I paid for these things, and if I still see purpose in them then they aren't garbage. They are things that are redeemable.

I think at times we all feel like a piece of junk; like we're screw-ups. Sometimes other people treat us like junk, tossing us away or treating us like we mean nothing to them and oh how that hurts. Some of us never recover from it.

But here's the Truth that I know: I am redeemable. Despite all my junk (no not in the trunk, I'd like some junk in the trunk though), and all my brokeness I have been redeemed. And what's more, I am loved and valued and created by the God of the Universe. That's changed me.

I can't even begin to imaging living a life that I didn't feel had some sort of purpose. "Well," you might say "you're a mother. Of course your purpose is to love and raise your children to be contributors to society", and I will agree with you. But why? So that they can grow up, go to school to get a good job to make money so they can spend it and eventually just die? Or leave a "legacy" to a world that will inevitably come to an end as a result of the beating it's taken from all of humanity? Really? Why would I even have kids if I didn't think there was some sort of eternal purpose? See, I HAVE to believe that there is more than this. I don't have a choice or I think I would just kill myself. No, really, why would I want to live in this world without a hope for heaven? It would all just be in vain. All for nothing. Hopeless.

See, one day no matter what, my heart will stop beating. That will be the end of my life, but it will not be the end of me. I'm pretty sure you don't want that to be the end of you either. Does anyone?

So you see, this little collection reminds me that God didn't put me on earth just to fulfill a to-do list. He's more interested in what I am than what I do. That's why we're called human beings, not human doings! And he hasn't given up on me, he has saved me through death on a cross, and everyday he is refining me and shaping me. I am a new creation in Him. The old has gone; the new has come.

Likewise, the people that I love are redeemable. The people that I don't really like are redeemable! The people that I walk by in the street that have been labeled junk are just as redeemable and worthy of redemption. You are redeemable. Maybe you already know that, maybe you don't.

We are not junk to him. We are precious, purposeful sons and daughters. Do you hope I'm right?

Falling for Spring

*please note I wrote this yesterday! Today was a pleasant surprise!

Well, this was last week

We loved every second we got at the park and on our bikes enjoying the greatly missed out doors. THIS WEEK ... we refuse to be disappointed and simply decided to pretend it was fall. Knowing that the temperatures would drop again, why not make it enjoyable rather than discouraging (for those of us affected by SAD and if you're very eager for the return of warm weather!). The weather is actually quite similar at these times of the year and this way we feel as though we've had a whole summer of fun in the sun behind us rather than a long winter stuck in doors! Yes, we are playing tricks on ourselves. The mind is a powerful thing!

So, being good Birtches can you guess how we did this?

We began our day with these amazing baked apples, I had to take pictures:
Then add a dollop of yogurt and come to mama!

We also revived our frozen cider in the crockpot, saved for just the right occasion.
We cozied up to grilled apple and cheddar sandwiches.
And who says you can't dirt bike in the house? Not this mommy!

So it's still a little wet and a little cold. I will not be a weather-complainer anymore.
Feel free to hold me to that.
Please.

Embracing the Mess

It's spring, and so you know what that means right? That I have every good intention to tackle the closets, reorganize the kitchen, put away outgrown cloths, sort and give away toys, and *sigh* go through that basket of papers. Clutter drives me crazy.

I like to tell myself that these things wouldn't need to be done if I had more space, more closets, and a garage because of course I would be much more capable to keep this house in order!

But who am I kidding. I have three kids 4 and under. Don't get me wrong, it would help to actually have more than 3 drawers in my kitchen, but the floor would still need swept four times a day!

Someone wise once said, "Trying to clean your house while your children are still growing is like trying to shovel the walkway outside while it's still snowing." I guarantee it was a mother who said it. If you have a life wish list that includes children, sanity and order I'm sorry to tell you but you can only pick two.

I have decided to embrace the clutter and find delight in disarray. This doesn't mean I am lowering my standards, it means I'm choosing not to have any!

My house isn't (usually) dirty, it's just not always tidy. I think there's a difference. I do love clean laundry (put away), my towels folded the same way, books organized and pretty on a shelf, and shoes lined up neatly in a row. But why do I let myself get so bothered by it when they aren't? Or when I take the time to do these things and it last for a mere 4 seconds. So I'm taking this different approach:

When I accept the inevitability that our space will be untidy I am stepping over the Dora Lego and seeing creativity in action. When I have to shuffle my feet through animals and blankets and books to get down the hall I see an adventure that the girls have packed everything they love so dearly to bring with them on. When I climb into bed and find poky princesses and someone's socks I know that they felt close to me, warm and safe whatever they were imagining. Olivia has more friends in her bed then I can count, but they keep her company. And when I see the mountain of books beside Larissa's bed I am seeing a hundred adventures she's been on, some gratefully with me.

One day, not so far off as I sometimes am foolish enough to think, I know the day will come when I will put my books on the shelf and they will stay there, when my dishes will be all done and my laundry will be neatly all put away. But that will be a very sad time for me and for the moment I am perfectly content with my hopeless, joyful clutter. I am very blessed.

Proud Mama

He might not be crawling,

but at 10 months old

this kid is poop'n and pee'n on the potty like a pro!

(Larissa took all these photos!)

Don't hate me, it's not my fault.
Given the choice between changing dirty diapers or having my kids put it in the toilet, I'd rather be looked at a little funny for putting my baby on the potty.

If I hadn't been bowl trained at 6 months old I probably never would've thought of it. But if the kid can sit, why not put him/her on the potty every time you change their diaper? Or if they have a regular bm every day (or so), doesn't it just make sense to start associating the potty with it? So far that's what we've done with all our kids, and so far (fingers crossed) I haven't had to change a diaper for more than 18 months, yucky ones for much more than 10.

In fact, many countries don't even use diapers. Sure they have dirt floors so it's not such a big deal to clean, but they learn the rythms of the little ones and can teach them what to do when it's time to "go". It's really only in these busy societies that "potty training" is something that is "tackeled" and stressed about.

Landon, having two older sisters just thinks it's the greatest thing to be doing something he sees them doing. And now he knows exactly what to do on it.

Forgive me if I'm bragging a little, I do think my baby is a genious. I won't apologize for that!

Going Green and Having Fun

We're not normally "into" St. Patrick's Day. But this year, I couldn't wait to wear green and do kiddy crafts. Take a look at our day... To be festive, Nathan and I sported these oh-so-attractive pajama pants, made by yours truly. (They were in the bottom of the drawer, I didn't go out and make them for this occasion!) Can you guess who is wearing which pair?

And my wonderful Saint of a husband made us brown rice shamrock pancakes! DELISH. If I had had it my way, they would've been green. But Larissa was very worried about this. So worried in fact, that when she went to bed last night she was nervous about waking up to them. "Mommy, please don't make my pancakes green."


They've been waiting to wear these fun hats all week. Here is their debut while fashionably making a work of art.


Larissa gets a real kick from dressing up her doll of a brother. He's very good about it but his expression tells me he knows this hat doesn't make the cool list. The girls made these Shamrocks on Monday. Larrisa did ALL the cutting and gluing herself (Sham on the left). Olivia glued hers and helped me rip the paper. She really wanted to use the scissors but proved to have no patience for them yet. So we ripped. It worked, everyone was happy. They love lady bugs, so they thought it would be appropriate that a ladybug should live on their masterpieces. They were right, it's pretty clever. However, it did resurfaces a grudge Olivia still holds against the neighbour boy who "squashed her ladybug" last summer. What can I say, she found a treasure and he squished it under his shoe right before her eyes. Either Landon will be one sensitive man, or Olivia will learn that squashing bugs can be fun.
I made some "Irish Dip". It was guacamole with some spices and lime. Landon LOVED it!



And then we played outside and enjoyed the sun with our dear friend Lindsay. It was a great day!! Well, until Larissa really started getting hit hard with this bug she's been fighting. Maybe I should call the neighbour's kid to squash it!

St. Patrick's "Breastplate" Prayer

I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever.
By power of faith, Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan river;
His death on Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb;
His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom;*
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of the cherubim;
The sweet 'well done' in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors' faith, Apostles' word,
The Patriarchs' prayers, the Prophets' scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord,
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun's life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind's tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea,
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same.
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Photo Tinks by WiddlyTinks.com

Photo Tinks by WiddlyTinks.com

I've Been Dreading This For a LONG Time

I have a serious problem.

No really, I do. If you know me at all, you’ll know there is one thing I can’t handle, not even to talk about it. Yes, it is even difficult for me to blog about.

Brushing teeth. Toothpast actually.

I can’t get into the details, but basically I close my eyes to brush my teeth and I can only use a natural brand. I’m on the verge of OCD when it comes to rinsing my mouth and the sink post-affair.

Well tonight I was caught off guard when Nate tackled the inevitable: brushing the girls teeth with "the stuff". I gagged and gagged, I’m not sure how I didn’t toss all my cookies.

This led to an almost heated discussion about what to do. It’s true, this needed to be addressed a while ago, but we don’t eat sugar, and I have never had a cavity despite my tp-sickness.

I decided to google about it. Is it really essential? Please oh please tell me it’s not! I already know that most commercial brands do more harm then good and I wouldn’t put in my kids mouths if you paid me to. But I found a recipe! And I googled about the ingredients. It sounds like the perfect solution, so I think we’re going to give it a try so maybe tomorrow I can cuddle my babies at bedtime again.
(oh, and if you’re wondering like my dear hubby did what the difference is, well I can make it not all gross and peppermint as I seem to have a negative association with that, and if I made it in my own kitchen, well it’s just like food. Probably more to do with mind over matter, but hey, I really am sick, it’s not my fault I’m so weird).

Here is the recipe:
Ingredients needed to make natural toothpaste

1. Baking soda (works as a natural cleansing agent and it polishes and whitens your teeth as well!)
2. Table salt
3. Hydrogen Peroxide (naturally disinfects your mouth)
   Stevia (optional as sweetener)
4. Peppermint oil (optional)

Steps to make your toothpaste

1. Pour 1/2 cup baking soda into a mixing bowl
2. Add a dash of salt
3. Add 1/4 cup of hydrogen peroxide
4. Add 1 drop of peppermint oil
5. Add a dash of stevia (more if you want it sweeter)
6. Mix it all up until it becomes paste like. You may have to add more hydrogen peroxide to get the right consistency.
   

A few notes about the homemade toothpaste
You can store it in a plastic container to keep it from drying out.
If you’re not into the peppermint flavor, (like me) you could try ground cinnamon or vanilla extract.

My Costco "Ah-Ha" Moment

I've been on the road to contentment for what feels like a really long time.
Once I realized it was an area in my life that needed some attention, I didn't really think it was something that would be a thing of the past the next day. No, I knew it was going to be something in me (my discontent) that would need to be surgically removed. It's like a bad weed. If you don't get to the root it will just keep coming back. But I wasn’t looking forward to the process. That was at least a few years ago!

Then the other day I was at Costco with a friend and we noticed the beautiful swing set they had on display. A minute later (literally), I got very excited. I shared with my friend that I finally understood the difference between wanting something and coveting it. Last year when I would see just about anything for a backyard I would get very upset with the fact that I don’t have one. And I would sort of whine about it. No, not sort of, I had a very whiney spirit in fact. And like an impatient child I would stomp my foot on the ground and petition God for these things that I wanted. Of course at the time I didn’t see it that way. I saw it as expressing my frustration to God (which I believe is ok), but the things I was so easily frustrated by and the way in which I felt and expressed those feelings was very immature. However, on Friday I looked at the swing set and thought how nice it was and how much my kids would love it and kept walking. That was it. I didn’t stand there and dream about it, envisioning my kids playing on it and then asking God why I couldn’t have it. Then go home and complain about where we are financially and how I didn’t understand why if God loved me so much He wouldn’t just give me a nice yard, and of course then a nice big kitchen yada yada yada. What encouragement I felt when I realized that I seem to have grown up a little.

I am not going to say that I have arrived or that I am always content with everything, But I finally get it. My heart gets it without me having to tell it to. Do I want a bigger house? Sure I do. Would I still love a big yard with a swing set and trampoline? Of course I would. But I am truly grateful for what I DO have.

I am sinking my roots deep into the good soil of Christ, trusting that He who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion (Philippians 1:6) This last little while I’ve shifted my focus. I’m not centering on ME and everything I need to change and work on. I’ve simply been focusing on Christ, and walking in the belief that His Spirit is in me, and so I already have all the fruit of His Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control). And what do you know. When I stopped focusing on all the sinful nature in me and began trusting that death on a cross paid for all of that, things began to happen. I’m starting to have more and more of these little Costco “ah-ha” moments! I see so clearly the blessing of staying where we are and nailing down our debt and the freedom that will come from that. And how in doing so we are learning, growing, and seeing God provide for us.

Is there something in your life that you know needs to be operated on? You wouldn’t expect a heart surgeon to perform his own heart transplant would you? Just because he knows how? Well, let’s stop trying to operate on ourselves and just sink our roots into the rich soil so easily accessible to us in the person of Jesus and see what happens.

Basking in Love

http://www.upload-mp3.com/files/163830_xfrza/Happy%20Birthday.mp3
(I'm not sure how to make the music play, but if you click on this link you're in for a treat!)

It's already been a grand celebration around here. The princesses are dressed for royalty, and I've been treated like a queen already. (They gorgeous, and I haven't showered!) I like this new approach to basking in the love of my friends and family, why didn't I discover this little treasure of a birthday years ago? Oh right, because I didn't let myself.

I'm learning that if you allow yourself to receive love, then you'll really feel it. So if you're like I was, almost embarrassed to receive that gift, stop fighting it. Let go and soar on the wings! It's fantastic!

The Hallmark Of It All

It’s twenty minutes until I’m 28. That’s right, I’m still in my twenties! It’s taken me eight years, but I refuse to lament about how I’m not in my early twenties anymore. I realize that in two years I will be regretting how I cried on my twenty fifth birthday. C’mon, I’m TWENTY EIGHT! Bring it on!

I used to not care about celebrating my birthday, and I’m not really sure why. I didn’t really see the point in celebrating the day in which we are born. Yeah yeah, the gift of life is worthy of celebration, but I always found it rather strange the way we go about it. I’d just prefer you to tell me on any random day that you love me and am glad I was brought into this world, not just once a year in a card because you should. But, like many things I’m noticing, as I grow older I’ve come to appreciate the event. I understand that I love to celebrate a life and if a birthday is cause to express gratitude for that life and all that life means to me, then I will love to celebrate a day of birth!

That is until my birthday comes around, and then it’s kinda tricky. I always feel so awkward about it. Like, please, don’t make a fuss over me, really, it’s not a big deal. But on the other hand, if no one calls I know I would feel forgotten and let down. Funny eh? (At least there will be Facebook to remind everyone. Ha!)

I do love my birthday this year, finally, and let me tell you why. There are a couple of reasons actually.

The first is because for the first time I get it, I really really get it. Deep in my spirit I KNOW that the Creator of the universe(s) planned ME. I personally know His hand wove me together in my mother’s womb. Pslam 139 has come alive to me. What I always knew in my head to be true is now real in my heart of hearts. God doesn’t make mistakes. Sure, there are unplanned pregnancies (I am one, and have three precious ones of my own!) But each of us is incredibly pieced together, and regardless of how that turns out, God knows what He is doing. And be assured, He has a plan and purpose for each life however long, however short. Do you believe that? I pray you do. And if not, I pray that you will experience the same revelation that I have.

The second reason why I love my birthday this year is because something my mom has always reminded me of seems more real to me. And I know why.

For those of you who don’t know, I’m adopted. My parents knew they were getting me before I was born, so I wasn’t like, months or years old or anything. That’s something I’ll write about when it’s not so late.

Being the compassionate, empathetic, thoughtful person my mom is, every year she always remembered my birth mother. She would always remind me that somewhere “out there” was the women who carried me inside of her for nine months, birthed me, and selflessly allowed me the life she felt was better than what she could give me (for which I am forever grateful). And I know that this year, having three beautiful children of my own, I can’t imagine not knowing them. This year, I too have empathy for a mother who never knew her child. I know her decision wasn’t easy and I pray rich blessings for her and a peace tomorrow trusting God with the baby she carried. I have never “felt adopted” and 99% of the time I forget that I am. This is probably the first time I’ve ever really wondered if she does remember March 10, 1982. One thing I know for sure, my Mom does, and even though she’s in Florida I know she celebrates me everyday of the year too. A gift I hope to pass on to my children that they will carry with them their whole lives too.

This has all given me an insight into the love of my Father. It’s finally becoming more than head knowledge to me. I always believed it and I’ve said it a thousand times to others, “God loves you. You’re special because He made you. You are a child of the King!” and now I really am able to understand it.

Ug, I am not intending to blog novels here, but one last thing I would like you all to know. My incredibly loving, caring, sacrificing husband is downstairs decorating, wrapping and up to special tricks in preparation for the morning. (We will have two very disappointed little girls if we dared to have a birthday festivity with out balloons, presents, and the Dora banner!) But I know he wants me to feel loved, acknowledged, and special. What I hope he knows is that he makes me feel like that everyday, not just once a year. For THAT I have no words to express the gratitude and humility I feel for him in my life.

I'll Start With a Confession

I suppose if you’re reading this then I’ve done it. I’ve really gone and done it. But before I do, let me confess the truth to you: I’ve never really liked blogs.

Before you start sending me the hater vibes, let me explain. Like a lot of things we don’t care for in life, I had limited exposure to Blogsville and truthfully didn’t really “get it”. My experience with bogs was really someone saying to me, “oh, didn’t you read my blog? Well I blogged about it” as if I should run and read it before resuming the conversation. It frustrated me because I would just prefer you to tell me about whatever it is you cared enough to bring up in conversation but for some reason thought it wasn’t worth discussing. Does that make sense? And so began my frustration with blogging.

That was until I actually decided to check out some friend’s blogs one day. And guess what, it only took a few minutes for me to understand this once mysterious world. I had an “ah-ha” moment and couldn’t believe how creative, smart, encouraging, deep, and passionate some of my friends really are! And rather than see one’s wanting me to read their blog as an injustice to face to face conversation, I see it now as an invitation, and opportunity to see a different side of them.

That was about a year ago. I don’t get as much time to keep up with certain blogs as I’d like to, but I quite enjoy them when I get a chance.

And now, here I am in Blogstown. It’s taken me a while to get here, and while I am excited to start my very own blog, I’m a little nervous too! Why? Oh geez, where to begin… well…

1. I feel intimidated by the time I feel I don’t have to put into making a “good blog”. Like I really need one more thing to do with all my spare time. (Yes that is sarcasm). That leads me to reason #2



2. There are so many outstanding blogs out there, and though it’s not a “blogetition” the thought of mine being second, third or forth rate I just can’t stand (my mom says it’s something to do with me being a perfectionist).



3. I don’t trust myself completely. Lord give me wisdom to not say something that will offend. Though it’s an area I’ve been working on in my life, I’m still pretty opinionated! I fear I might express myself, you know that temptation for "pointless barking" and someone out there might not like it. (That's the people-pleaser in me).



4. Did I mention it seems like a big time-taker?



5. I feel tempted to blog in the hopes of bringing some order to my mind of chaos. (I’m somewhat of a scatterbrain you know). I love to journal but it seems as though I spend what little time I might get to journal catching up on the months I’ve missed! So I’d hate for this to become one more thing I’ve started well and finished poorly. But I’ve had a number of things happen that I say to myself, “Wow, this is totally blog-worthy!”



6. What would I call it?! (I’m writing this before I actually make the blog. So I guess if you’re reading this I’ve picked a title. Do you like it? I'm probably re-thinking it)



7. I hardly get a chance to keep up with blogs I love and so that people-pleasing-fair-girl in me things it just wouldn’t be nice to be in blog world and not read the other blogs. I know, so silly.



8. Last but not least, how safe is a blog? I mean, if I’m putting myself and essentially my family out there, how safe is this? I do have the most beautiful kids in the world, but I’d like to hand-pick who I share them with!
   
   I know I know it’s just a blog you’re saying. And you’re right, but this is how I operate! And hopefully through my messy, mixed up mind you’ll find something you like. And if you don’t, well that’s ok too.