Reformed Grits

It's blogworthy to me

Thanks for coming back to check on me in my prolonged absence.  I'm not "back" but I've been thinking of you.  It's hard to go back to regular blogging when you stop cold turkey but I've needed the break.  But I just can't get enough of you, my friends, so I thought of something I should share:

First, I'm struggling to do dinner right now.  I don't wanna cook.  It's hot and I am really not in to eating things that are good for me because they don't taste good and are expensive.  So we've eaten chicken and minute rice 15 ways, had tacos and/or spagetti every other night and I'm tired of it.  So when I ran in to Publix the other night to pick up something I needed, they had a little cook-person handing out samples of one of their "Apron Meals." 
"Would you care for a sample of our 'Beenie Weenie Pizza'?" 
And then I threw up a little in my mouth and willed out, "Uh, no thanks."  The two kids with me obliged the lady and then I realized... I was STARVING.  I wasn't even sure when I had eaten last so I said, "I changed my mind... I'll try it." 
And with that, I scarfed it down, trying to not taste it...
But it actually was really good.  So I went back and got the recipe card.
And that night I found myself thinking about it again. 
That's when I started plotting out when I'd get the ingredients to make it myself.  It was so strangely satisfying, like some weird comfort food.  I wanted it again.  I started craving Beenie Weenie Pizza.  But I had to wait until grocery day, because you know Dave Ramsey lives here and I had my money doled out already. 
Here I need to interject some important commercial information.  Did you know that Publix sells pizza DOUGH?  I'm talking the squishy stuff in a bag in the bakery.  It. Is. Delicious.  And this, from someone who grinds her own wheat to make her pizza dough normally.  It was more expensive than I'd like (2.59 a bag, for Pete's sake) but I had to try it. 
Back to the story.  Grocery day came, and could hardly wait until I got my goods to make the much-anticipated Beenie Weenie Pizza.  The kids were in a frenzy from hearing about it from me and the other children who had the privilege of sampling it. 
That night, would be Beenie Weenie Pizza night. 
After a few stops and starts with the crust (does anyone have a two sided grill?  I'm thinking that's like a Foreman grill which they do NOT make in a size big enough for the Grits family and if they do I don't care to try to store one in my kitchen...) we were underway.   Reading the recipe, I did a double-take as I realized that the recipe was for four.  I had already planned to double it, but as I was reading the recipe I realized that their recipe for "four" would feed only Mr. Grits.  Seriously, people, tearing the original pizza dough ball in half and making it into an 8x10 oval?  Is that about the size of two normal pieces of pizza, or is it just me?  That is supposed to be the main course for 4?  That's just enough food to tick us off.  So I'm scrambling, folks, finding more beenies and more weenies and then I realized the kids hadn't liked the onions so what should I do to compensate for that, and the dough.  Oh the dough.  For real, it's delicious.  But it's made of silly putty.  No, no.  Silly putty actually stays flat if you make it flat.  This was some sort of flubber.    Consider trying to make a pizza crust out of something that did not want to be made in to pizza crust.  It had a will of its own.  And it was some seriously strong-willed pizza crust. 
It was at this point that the reality-- and insanity-- of what I was doing hit me.  I was making Beenie Weenie Pizza.  Which upon hearing the name of it had originally make me do a baby barf.  I was now attempting to stretch out some half-dried gluey dough into a semblance of... dinner for my family?  Stop the insanity! 
At this point, Sister began to hover around and I had to confess that I had failed her... not only as a person who was supposed to feed her and nurture her, but to protect her from the evils of the world-- like Beenie Weenie Pizza. 
An hour and a half later, we sat down to this "easy and delicious recipe that may take as little as 15 minutes to prepare" and I probably should have set the table with spoons and bowls.  Yes, I followed the recipe but it was a MESS.  Most of the kids loved it.  Bee pushed it away and said, "I no wannit."   Mr. Grits tolerated it, and actually may have liked it.  I couldn't bring myself to ask and he never complains when I go to the trouble to cook a meal for him.  No one had enough to eat, however, so I whipped out some chips and dip, and veggies to dip as well because like I mentioned-- I'm all about health food right now. 
My friends, I have hit my all time low in life.  Considering that it was a good idea.  Spending hard-won money on it.  And serving it to my beloved family. 
We all may need to seek professional help after this.  Pray for us, my friends.  Pray for us. 

"I can't get no..."

I have a new past-time that entertains me on nights when my beloved is out and away, whether at school or at a friend's enjoying his favorite past-time. 

I go to a website for a familiar seminary, and go to the "jobs posted" page where there are hundreds of open ministerial positions posted.  Some are for Senior Pastors, some are for Assistant Pastors.  Some for Youth Pastors; some for Worship Leaders.  Listings for Ministerial Administrative.  And so on, and so forth.  I look over the listings and where they are... and I wonder. 

I wonder where we will be.  I wonder what we will be doing.  I wonder if we will be far from home.  I wonder if we will love it-- or hate it.  I think about what our home will be like there. 

Which leads me to the next thing I do.  I open a new window on my computer and go to a realty website and type in the zip code of a job that sounds "interesting" and I see what houses we could afford there.  It's been very... enlightening.  Some places I get really excited about, and some make me cringe and think it would never happen.  (Those will be the ones God leads us to, I'm sure.  He's funny that way with me.) 

Last night, I "found" a job in an area of Texas that was near a large city and VERY close to the Gulf (because I LOVE the beach.)  They had a classical Christian school, which was a HUGE plus.  I looked up and houses that were significantly within our price range were considerably larger than the house we are in now-- and have pools, and yards that don't need napalm, and playrooms in addition to 5 bedrooms and "Texas basements" (a storage attic, LOL). 

And I began to get ready to move. 

One problem.  We are still about 2 years out from finishing school (I say "we" like a man who says "we" about having a baby) and then another year for ordination.  Three years.  Did I mention "we" have been in school for 6 years already?  That means we are only 2/3 of the way there.  Lately my beloved has been talking more and more about seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.  (Our pastor would say, "And I don't think it's a train!")  I want to be expectant, but I'm having a hard time being patient.  I know that this "adventure" could take us anywhere and we could be doing anything.  My personality makes me see all this as "an adventure."  Adventures, I have learned however, aren't always what they are cracked up to be. 

At the beginning of the summer, we were wanting to get away for a long weekend.  I love to fly-- that's how I feel like I'm REALLY getting away!-- and so in planning I decided to find the cheapest flight to anywhere and that's where we'd get away to.  Turns out, that place was New Orleans.  It was exciting to look forward to it and plan.  We'd romanticize and dream about what this adventure would bring us.  We had every expectation of sipping cold drinks as we sat and leisurely and chatted at restaurants that would bring us plate after plate of everything we could stand to eat.  We'd go to movies; eat dessert; sleep in; stay out late.  And relax. 

Now I am definitely not complaining about our trip-- it was a lot of fun and we enjoyed getting away together.   But let me tell you, it was HOT.  And we walked 95% of the time everywhere we went.  And for whatever reason, I felt exhausted and wanted to fall in bed by 9 PM into a deep, dark slumber.  And I had no appetite.  And like I mentioned earlier, I never found ice cream the whole time I was there outside of an Arby's Jamocha Shake.  And the people there made me sad-- from the beggars, the homeless, the gamblers, and those that were taken advantage of.  It wasn't like I thought it was going to be.  It was hard.  And hot.  And... different. 

Going away-- whether for the night with your husband or indefinitely with your family-- in search of a respite from life through the adventure of just going, is really not satisfying.  Well, that is to say it's not satisfying if you aren't already satisfied where you are.   When will I learn that?  Years ago at a Bible study Caroline and I went to, the author of the study said that when you set something in front of you and say, "THIS will make me happy" whether it's a certain car, achieving a certain financial status, time away, food, or whatever... when you set something in front of you as that which will bring happiness or joy, you make it more important that God in your life; in actuality, you are idolizing it.  I hope that scares you as much as it scares me!  I don't want to waste worship on anything that is not worthy! 

My reaction to this is to attempt to be satisfied.  And for me, that requires patience.  The grass truly isn't greener than the grass under my feet.   As a sheep, I can be sure of this.  Because my Shepherd has led me to the greenest of pastures.  What could be more satisfying than this? 

One word...

Stealing this from a friend's private blog... We like to call this blog fodder when there are no updates on the bathroom besides first coat of paint is up!

1. Where is your cell phone? purse

2. Your significant other? cooking

3. Your hair? fixed

4. Your mother? awesome

5. Your father? Heavenly

6. Your favorite thing? family

7. Your dream last night? restless

8. Your favorite drink? calorieless :-)

9. Your dream/goal? graduation :-)

10. The room you’re in? bedroom

11. Your church? nearby

12. Your fear? pain

13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? wherever

14. Where were you last night? pool

15. What you’re not? confident

16. Muffins? warm

17. One of your wish list items? clothesline, LOL

18. Where you grew up? Birmingham

19. The last thing you did? shopped

20. What are you wearing? tanktop

21. Your TV? annoying

22. Your pets? dead, lol

23. Your computer? Betty

24. Your life? awesome

25. Your mood? whatever

26. Missing someone? yes

27. Your car? paid

28. Something you’re not wearing? shoes

29. Favorite store? inexpensive

30. Your summer? better

31. Like(love) someone? absolutely

32. Your favorite color? pink

33. Last time you laughed? today

34. Last time you cried? forgot

35. Who will repost this? whoever

Skating

What's a girl to say?  Honestly, life right now is the perfect kind of boring.   We are skating along through our summer. 

No drama whatsoever. 

Which really means not much to say. 

Um, yesterday we went to the pool.  Bee is still jumping in.  Um.  She's talking a lot.  She'll repeat almost anything anyone says.  It's fun that she can communicate. 

My house is pretty clean because work is slowing down thanks to the ever-amazing and efficient Distybug.   Laundry is caught up too. 

We have nothing on the calendar until Monday when we have to take Jojo to his team meeting and shell out the big bucks.  (yawn.)  He's currently running 2.5 miles 4 times a week.  Next week he'll bump it up to 3.0.  Makes me tired just thinking about it. 

It was 99 degrees outside yesterday.  (yawn.)

I've gained like 7 lbs.  I think I'll make some bread today.  With LOTS of flax seed in it. 

Sister is at a friend's house. 

The Poo and JD are playing with the baby.  We painted her fingernails and toenails this morning.  Sugie's too. 

Sugie is all in to Go Fish right now.  We all have to play it with her.  Good times. 

My kids found out their teachers the other night.  Somewhat anti-climatic because they are all good. 

See?  Boring.  Just the boring I love.  I'm not running all over town in a hot car spending gas that costs as much as a gallon of milk.  I'm not drowing in work and worry over my job.  (PRAISE THE LORD!)  I'm not under a pile of laundry.  My kids are gratefully healthy and generally happy.  Life is good, and we are extremely thankful for this respite. 

I love skating.  :-)

Was just thinking...

Today I was talking to my beloved about what I was doing 2 years ago today.  The week before, we had had VBS at church and I had brought snacks for the teachers which basically meant I dropped stuff off in the morning, had my kids in VBS all day, and had the day free.  That whole week, Caroline and I, who were due 2 days apart, utilized that time by driving all over town in search of the last of our baby needs.  We each got an infant car seat, pacifiers, burp clothes, and other last minute things.  This pregnancy was the only time I have EVER been ready before my due date-- and I was only 33+ weeks then!  I tend to go late (JD was 12 days late!) and I really thought I had time.  My pregnancy had been perfect.  I felt good; I was happy as a lark (no pregnancy blues I'd had in the past), I was sleeping, and I was full of joy.  I actually was enjoying being pregnant!  
But let's back up... do you know what a gift my girl was?  We announced our pregnancy with John Knox on the day we took Sugie's baby bed down.  When we told the children, JD cried-- no, sobbed  --big, beautiful tears of joy.   He was smiling so big I thought his face would crack.  They were all so excited!  They were SO happy!  Every conversation they had was about "the baby" and how thrilled they were that another one was coming.  They couldn't wait to tell all their friends at school and church (one of our children actually stood in the hall of the Sunday school rooms and said, "Hey everybody!  We are having another baby!!!")
Almost 3 months later, when we gathered them around us again to tell them that our baby was dead, the scene could not have been worse.  I won't tell you what it was like in that moment, but telling them was almost harder then hearing the news for myself.  They openly grieved for a long time over the death of what we found out the next day was their brother. 
After all was said and done, Mr. Grits was over the baby-business.  He was ready to "end" our childbearing years and my stomach churned whenever he talked about it.  I could not fathom closing that chapter of our lives on such a bitter note.  He received wise counsel to not be hasty in this decision on the heels of such loss.  I was desperate to have another baby, immediately.  But we decided to hold off until we could make a better decision that would not be made early in grief.  We would wait and think about it again, say in 6 months or so.  Maybe at least after his due date.  We didn't know. 
3 or so months later, we had been at a soccer party where Taco Soup was served.  When I came home, I could not quit burping onions (sorry to be so gross.)  I remember telling Mr. Grits, "I don't know what's wrong with me... This only happens (it then dawned on me) when I'm pregnant!"  I happened to have some pregnancy tests in the bathroom left over from... well, who am I kidding-- I had them around all the time!  I took one, and had a faint positive I thought.   Sure enough... I was pregnant.  And not even late yet.  (Do I know my body, or do I know my body.  Say it with me, sistahs!) 
So back to the awesome pregnancy I was having... when all of a sudden I started with preeclampsia symptoms which I was told was impossible.  (Guess what?  "With God, nothing will be impossible")  I wrote her birth story here which you are welcome to go back and read.  Why on earth would I get this "impossible" case of toxemia when I've lost one baby and this pregnancy was going so well?  Why God?  I was in terrible physical pain and the joyous birth moment I had anticipated-- oh, how we talked about the swell of emotions we would feel as we heard this baby's first cry!-- was replaced with a little 4 lb 2 oz baby, a life-threatening disease, and so much nausea that I don't even remember her cry for all the throwing up. 
Yet, the more I ponder it, the more I see beauty from ashes.  This baby is a gift.  Yeah, yeah, I know-- they all are-- but she's like redemption. From simple things like being ready at home for her, and the time I had to prepare ahead of time when I didn't know she'd be early.   And even from being sick, I can tell you that God is good.  We didn't know it at the time but after she was born the doctor told us that her placenta was extremely under-sized, and had a huge clot under it that was cutting off her life-force.  This "bad disease" saved her life.  She would have died before we reached her due date. You tell me by whom we live and breathe and have our being?  Who knows all things?  Who puts to death and gives life; who wounds and heals, and no one is delivered but by His hand?  Who is in heaven and does whatever pleases Him?  And Who makes everything beautiful in His time? 
My God.  That's who.
So on the eve of this father's day, I give honor to my Father.  Take it from me... He's worthy.

... the Lord hath anointed me to... bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound... to comfort all that mourn;  To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.
Isaiah 61:1-3

Just say no...

It's hard to say no. 

Well, I mean, to some things. 

When I was in the Bahamas a few years ago at the straw market and was naively "ooing" and "ahhing" over the cute hand-carved pipes with funny faces, it wasn't hard to say "no" to the Bahamian fellow who noticed my pleasure and wanted to know if I would like some "good weed." 

But it's hard to say "no" to good things.  My dear friend Meg brought this to my attention not long ago and it has resonated within me that there are seasons in life where you have to say no to "good things."  This next week I have actually for the first time ever, had to say "no" to working in VBS.  Ever since the spring and summer became so challenging with work, I have habitually said "yes" to working VBS even though it's my busy season for work and it completely drains and overwhelms me and makes me want to sit in the back of my closet with my blankey, sucking my thumb.  VBS is a "good thing."  But Mr. Grits has assured me that I physically and emotionally can't do both.  He decided for me, laying down the law (which he NEVER does except in situations like this where I can't be relied upon to make a wise decision and I know it) that last year was my last time to work VBS as long as I'm doing this job.  He's right, but it's hard to say no to good things. 

Something that wouldn't surprise most folks but they may not know is that Mr. Grits is a gifted soccer coach.  He has great knowledge of the inner workings of the game, strategy, skills, and what it takes to be a great player.  Not just physically, but he knows when a player is a liability to their team with their attitude and temper and is able to coach this as well.  He coached Jojo's teams for years until Jojo got on a traveling competitive team and then we decided that it would be a "good thing" for him to learn what others had to teach.  Two years ago, it looked as if his team would need a coach so Mr. Grits stepped up and coached him again in the competitive "2nd" team.  By the end of the season, the team found itself playing the club's "first team" in a tournament.  With his leadership and having been under his coaching for 2 seasons, our team dominated the game and almost won-- a last minute corner kick score did us in.  It was a great experience... except for the fact that Mr. Grits is called to full-time ministry and seminary.  That year of coaching, a new baby, and seminary classes almost stressed us to breaking.   I wish we looked back on that year as "good times" but whenever we look back we groan and say, "We will NEVER do that again." 

This summer, Mr. Grits and I have been plotting strategy for him to finish school inside the next 2 years.  We've talked about getting "gazelle intense" with his schooling.  Meanwhile, it looks as though an opportunity would come about to coach again this next year.  This prospect, like the proverbial carrot hanging just out of grasp of the horse's mouth, tempts like a siren.  He's a good coach.  A GREAT coach.  He enjoys it.  He could make a difference.  This opportunity is a good thing.  But it's a good thing we have to say no to. 

I've tried to think about a Biblical basis for this.  Why should I say no to something that's good?  The thing I keep coming back to is how Paul often mentions he had to turn away from trips or opportunities to go visit those he loved to continue on with difficult and challenging ministry opportunities.  In 1 Corinthians 16 he says "...I do not want to see you now and make only a passing visit; I hope to spend some time with you, if the Lord permits.  But I will stay on at Ephesus until Pentecost, because a great door for effective work has opened to me, and there are many who oppose me."  He is delaying the gratification of the "seeing you now" in order to be obedient to what the Lord has actually called him to, with the hope as well that he'll have a longer visit later. 

So basically, it's about obedience.  Our primary call is to get through school and for me to do my job.  (Obviously secondary to The Primary Call of parenting our children and raising them in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.)  Coaching soccer, working VBS, volunteering in the kids' classrooms, working in the library, having the kids in music lessons or even playing soccer (yes, there I said it) truly are good things.  We just have to pick and choose which things help us in our call and which ones distract us from it.  Sometimes we don't know.  Sometimes we have to make bad decisions and learn from them.  And sometimes we just have to do the hard thing by saying "no" to "good things."

Nothing worth doing is easy. .

Prepare to be amazed

... for we are fearfully and wonderfully made!!  This is awesome!

Y'alls are funny

I have gotton a HUGE kick out of the folks who have emailed and commented about my "idiot" experience.  Hilarious!  I just want you to know, I really didn't think as much of it as y'all did!  I really was TRYING to make the point that I will fail and do wrong and screw up, but that's ok.  People will point out my flaws and imperfections and that's ok.  I'll get called names, and that's ok! 
But lemme tell ya, y'all are like mother lions about me and I am very grateful and humbled to have friends like you. 
I don't hold a grudge against this person-- I really don't-- but I do wonder how hard it must be to live in a house with a man who loses his temper over something so small and is not quick to forgive.  I feel bad for his wife and children, and hope that maybe he's really not like that but that maybe he just had a bad day.  Maybe he dropped one ... that day and that was why he was so cranky. 

Ahem.

I'm done now. 

Thank yall. 

Tuesday

4 doctors copays... so far
4 antibiotic copays... so far
3 soccer practices missed... so far
2 breathing treatments... so far
2 thermometers going all the time
2 games missed
2 missed days of work... so far
Lots of advil
Lots of tylenol
10 total days of school missed... so far
1 shot in the hiney
4 half gallons of ice cream
Hours and hours of pointless cartoons
4 loads of laundry today... so far
Bee covered in poop from not having diaper on.
Bee covered in peanut butter from raiding the kitchen. 
Bee covered in marker... just because. 

3 days until we are out for summer... (sigh)

My humanness abounds

The other day I wrote about my pride and how God ceases to allow me to be humbled again and again.  In the last year of my life, I've noticed that I've dealt with a great deal of anxiety-- something I've never dealt with before.  The least little change to my schedule or routine and I feel all types of panic welling up in my soul and I feel miserable.  I feel so much sympathy for those who deal with this routinely in a thousand ways worse than I do.  I'm still learning to deal with anxiety and panic which helps, but pondering why I am experiencing this change made me realize something. 
Picture me juggling all kinds of balls, and you can even picture me as a clown because honestly that's how I think I look to a lot of people lately.  (Well, clown is nicer than "idiot" which is what I got the other day, but I digress...)  Pretend I have one ball for each of my children and husband, then there's school, work, household responsibilities, soccer, scouts, staying within the budget, keeping up with medical payments (which has become a big deal for us lately with all the health issues-- tonsils, migraines, strep, eye exams, contacts, dentist, etc.  We have the money, it's just keeping UP with all of it!) Add in the aforementioned health issues, running everyone where they need to go, and then of course we must try to schedule in some fun, if we can.  And I know I said work, but I need to say it twice more, just because it requires so much mental and emotional energy right now.  Work, and work.  I'm juggling, and maybe for a while I'm holding my own-- I can do this!  I can!  And then someone says, "Hey you have to start adding a new medicine twice a day for 10 days."  Oh... Ok, well I can, figure out how to adjust to one more ball.  Let's see... Ok...
Now, I'm juggling another ball and I'm shifting though feeling a little on edge, and someone, say from school says, "We need you to make this adjustment to such and such and do this thing differently.  Now, think of all the possible implications and get back to me."
Um.. Ok, now I have a couple kinks in my stomach and I'm feeling anxious but I'm focusing on juggling this new ball in addition to the old ones and, oh dear, I need to fit in the time to search for those implications... but let me just do this for a minute.  So I juggle and juggle and try to answer the phone with my foot while I'm juggling... and oh dear... I've dropped a ball. 
SCREEEEEEEECH.
Now I'm a mess because I've let someone down-- I've dropped a ball and they were counting on me and Oh no.  What will people think?  Will they think I'm unreliable?  Will they be scarred for life if it's my child?  Will the team not have something they need because I didn't come through? 
And my stomach is in big knots now...

Last night, I spent too much time looking at old photo albums of when I had just 3 and 4 children.  Things seemed SO simple then.  With the 3, I had no one in school and no one in soccer.  When 4 came, I had 1 in school and 1 in non-competitive soccer.  We were so flexible.  They all 4 still napped everyday for Pete's sake.  What happened?  I blinked, and all of a sudden life got so very hard.  It's not the number of children that makes life complicated-- it's their bloomin' activities that complicate things.  What if we just said no to it all-- even the good things?  Even this week, the last week of school, each of my six children is to have some type of end of year "thing" for their teachers and coaches, which makes a grand total of 18 people.  It's just not possible.  I had planned on making mini-loafs of bread with a small thank you card, but when 4 people in my house now have strep (did I forget to mention this??  Juggling this as well.  Remind me to go pick up the antibiotics at CVS, will ya?) do you think anyone really wants me to cook for them?  I'm thinking, no. 

Today the ball that dropped, was Sugie.  I pulled in the driveway at home and thought to myself, "SOMEONE is missing!"  And they were.  I screeched back out and speed-dialed my mom to see if she was still there (no answer.)  Within a minute, I got a phone call from the school, "Hey, Kim, do a quick count in the car and see if anyone is missing."  Cue uproarious laughter, from about 3 in the background as well.  Granted, I can laugh at myself.  No one was hurt.  It was funny.  I'm the dunce with 6 kids she can't keep up with.  I get it.  I just couldn't laugh because in my mind's eye I could see Sugie's sad, teary face wondering how her mommy could forget her the day after Mother's Day when she had made her a card and they were holding hands.

But where I am weak, He is strong.  I can not, and will not, beat myself up for being what He has made me.  I will have many "judges" on this earth but I only answer to Him for what I do and as my dear friend Disti reminded me from the David Crowder song "Everything Glorious"... "You make everything glorious, and I am yours, so what does that make me?"  I can only do what I can do, and if someone comes down harsh on me (such as the ungracious soul that referred to me as an "idiot") then I should, and will try to think about them in context of what some "unnamed" favorite person of mine said...

"I'm sure their poop doesn't stink." 

Have I mentioned I love my husband?