When God Waits On Me

I've spent much of my life contemplating what I wanted to do when I grew up. Think about it. I'm 30. Generally, somewhere around toddler-hood people start filling your brain with the 'you can do whatever you want to do when you grow up' jargon, by somewhere around 1st grade every school-going lad wants to be a teacher when they grow up (me included), and by 6th grade they are handing you a skills assessment and revealing to you your destiny. To say I've contemplated 'the rest of my life' since I was a kid is an understatement.

How that affects us - much to my dismay - when I not only graduate high school, but also college, wondering what in the world God wants from me! Worse... how much of a disappointment I must be to God, who certainly has directed me and made painfully clear what He has planned, and I've missed it. Sure, they say you can be anything you want to be (which I have theological issues with, anyway, but that's another blog for another time), but what if you have no idea what that is?

For people who are type A, as I am, it's torture. It feels like failure. It feels like disappointment.

I've prayed many, many, many times in my life for God to write it on the wall in the middle of the night, for Him to speak to me in a dream, I've physically yelled, "HERE I AM, LORD, SEND ME!" and here I've sat.

But ---

I now know... I wasn't ready.

In days of late, I feel closer than I've ever been. I feel like I may be onto something here. I feel like He may finally be removing the scales from my eyes. Loose ends abound. Questions still remain, "Is this my dream or is it God's will? And my prayer pleads, "Your will be done, Lord, not mine." But that means I have to aspire towards it. It means I have to make action steps, because maybe this dream of mine was born when I was. Maybe when the Lord knit me together, He knit me together for such a time as this.

And my 20 year old self, yes, well, she wouldn't have entertained this idea. In fact, the thought would have never occurred to her.

My 25 year old self, she would have laughed and waved it off. She would have been Jonah and run completely the opposite direction.

I don't even think my 29 year old self was prepared for this.

And the moral of the story is this: if you are 5, 15, 25 or 105 and don't really know where life is heading, push into Him. He'll either tell you or He'll be silent, and if He's silent, it's because you aren't ready for it yet and He's prepping you every. step. of. the. way.

I'm 30. For the first time I have a real dream with an end goal. It's my 30 year old dream, not to be confused with what He'll do in my life for my 40, 50 or 60 year old dream, but I thank God for His faithfulness and wisdom in holding out on me, for my own good.

Prayerfully pushing forward and praying God's provision in opening doors -

-A

My Girl

Some know this and some do not, but I knew... the Lord had impressed upon me long before A was knit together in the womb, that she would be part of our family. We had two names picked out for B, a boy name and a girl name, and when we found out B would be a B, well, Ansley's name felt void, empty... and I knew she'd come, I just knew it.

Fast forward to my pregnancy with her, and before I knew she was a 'her', we had two names picked out, a boys name and a girls name. The boys name was for traditional purposes only. I knew we wouldn't need it. I'd already bought girl clothes. I was not surprised to see the 'hamburger' on the ultrasound. Not in the least.

She's special like that. Until God states otherwise, she has completed our family. God knew I'd need to laugh a bit more... He knew B would need a fierce friend and companion... He knew daddy needed a little girl, with a personality precisely like his... and I'm so grateful He knew.

And now my sweet girl is on the cuffs of 4... of FOUR, I tell you! Four years of laughs and fun. Four years of sweet embrace. Four wonderful years. So here's a brief look back... it's all felt as if it's flown by anyway...

It's a special bond that's formed with your ob. Seriously, they become the best of friends. Here is our last picture as a family of three. We were dropping B off with Gaga and Papa on our way to the hospital for A's eviction notice (read: induction). Praise Jesus for an OB who thought the growth ultrasound a day prior seemed "off some" (ahem, almost 2 full pounds), and pulled every. string. she. could. to get the induction 9 days prior to my due date.

These pictures may be never before seen. I'll never forget Aaron posting on facebook that she was here and we were fine but there'd be no pictures. This was why... her poor, sad, bruised head, and that left arm, we thought it'd never be mobile again. It was an easy labor with a scary five minute ending. A weighed in at a whopping 10 lbs 1.1 ounces. (Slightly above the 8 lbs 3 oz they'd claim the day prior) Again, the ob and I, yeah, we are tight.

But all the bruising didn't kill the enthusiasm of a certain Big Bro ;) Look at that cheese!

And a week to heal the bruising and this sweet girl is perfect, and has ginormo feet :)

And here at 1 - there's that personality coming out...

 And at 2-- the year of hair...

And at 3--- little girl, now, more than baby...

 And nearing 4 ---- What a sweet, funny, precious gift she is :)

Fear Not

 "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. "

-Isaiah 41:10

A couple weeks ago I sat curled up with my sweet boy in his bed. We'd read his Bible, talked about the day to come, and prayed together. As I was getting up to leave, he asked me what the weather was expected to be the next day. My heart sunk. 

The weather. 

Who would have thought it'd be a topic of contention? I mean, people talk about the weather all the time. It's the favorite topic of generations of men for as long as we can all remember. In our house, though, it's been a conversation riddled with fear. Deep. Dark. Fear.

It all started many months ago. Near the church we attend a home in an affluent community was struck by lightning. Much of the house burned. We drove by the house many times a week, and it was referred to by both of our kids as 'the house that was burned'. 

Since then, the house has been rebuilt. It stands firm. The people are well. The temporary replaced. It has long left our conversation. Until now. 

Somewhere between August and September our oldest has developed this unhealthy, irrational fear of fire, and somewhere in that ever thinking, overly-analytical mind of his, he's connected the dots. 

With rain comes lightning. With lightning comes fire. With fire comes fear. Lots and lots of fear. 

And there we sat in his bed, his innocent question bidding me to reassure him, begging me to protect him... his little, precious heart wondering, "Do I need to fear tomorrow, mommy?" 

And my heart breaks. He is mine. I was him. From the earliest age I can remember, I worried. Fear laced my days. Irrational fears. Rational fears. Worry. Anxiety. It was paralyzing. It kept me up at night. It keeps me up at night. It is paralyzing. And it hits me  - nothing - not a thing - my parents said or did could fix it. It plagued my heart, it seeped into every empty corner of my mind and consumed me. 

And I wasted empty breath as I explained to my sweet innocent boy, "The Lord is good. He wants what is best for us. It's highly unlikely our house will catch on fire, but God is always good." Knowing that no words could heal his heart or ease his mind. Knowing that when I shut the door behind me after twenty minutes of reassurance that he would listen for raindrops. He'd watch the sky. He'd ask, yet again, about the weather. 

And I prayed, "Lord, don't let him be like me." I begged, "DELIVER him from this! Let his life NOT be spent in fear." And I spouted my grievances, "It doesn't even make sense! There's - like - almost NO chance our house will catch fire! Why can't he believe us? Why can't he trust us?"

And ever quietly God answered...

"Why can't you believe me? Why can't you trust me?"

Because I've been lying awake at night. I've been petitioning my father with questions about the weather in my own life. I've been begging for reassurance. I've been wrestling. 

My fears are different. But are they really? Because with a loving Father who promises that God works together ALL things for good for those who love Him, what shall I fear? WHOM shall I fear? 

Every scripture I'd relayed to my sweet 6 year old came pouring through my own mind, God using my words to reinforce His. The desperation I felt for him to just trust me is the same God feels for me to just trust Him. And, is HE not the one who is trustworthy? Can HE not protect my son and I better than I ever could? Could HE not provide for us better than I? Could HE not deliver us from our fears, our anxieties, our pains, our SIN, not just this time - but forever? Is HE not the one who is able?

30 years. 30 years I've feared and worried. 30 years my own mother has pleaded with me not to worry, and it's come to this; seeing my sweet boy walk my own footsteps to see how my Lord has seen my fears and worries this entire time, pleading me to trust Him... really trust Him. 

And my prayer is that He'd deliver us from the worry. That we would FEAR NOT, because our God is FOR us, WITH us, and LOVES us, and that God's salvation would come quickly in the life of my kids. That a holy boldness would replace the empty fear... that the hearts and minds consumed with fear would be replaced with overflowing springs of praise and adoration for a loving Savior who is faithful to deliver. 

May we not forget His goodness. May we not forget to whom we belong. May we not forget how this all turns out.  

"For it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you."

Deuteronomy 31:6

A Magical Trip of a Lifetime - Day 8

My heart sank that morning.

Really? Another headache?

It sank for all of about 30 seconds, because it only took me about 30 seconds to remember one of the worst headaches I'd had in my own life.

I was in San Francisco with a friend having my first 'adult' vacation. We had spent 6 weeks previously putting on summer camps for teenagers, and we had just come from Glorietta, New Mexico. My first 'adult' vacation was accompanied by an "I'm dying" phone call to my mommy. Worst headache ever. Major tummy upset. Dying.

In anxiousness my mom mentioned my condition to a nurse friend who promptly told her to have the friend staying with me walk the streets of San Fran on her own and get me some Gatorade, and to pray that I wasn't so far dehydrated that I'd need to be hospitalized.

Within hours I was walking those streets with her. Amazing the power of Gatorade. (Any time B has a stomach bug he asks for powerade or gatorade because we push it so heavily to keep him hydrated. I really believe he thinks it's a medicine, and I really believe it has a placebo effect for him!)

Why hadn't I thought of it sooner? Could she really just be dehydrated? Now that I thought of it, it'd been a long time since her last potty break. I grabbed our refillable mugs and headed for the resort restaurant.

An hour later we had a completely different kid.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some major mom guilt. The poor kid had gone about 16 hours with symptoms of dehydration, and of course she didn't know to tell me. Then - to add insult to injury - and to enhance the mom guilt - to know she could have enjoyed the previous night...

I'm still carrying it.

We had toyed with the idea of going back to Magic Kingdom several times. Saturday's plans were supposed to be to relax, enjoy the pool (which we hadn't done yet), and have a special dinner. After feeling shorted on MK time, we'd actually decided we'd spend the $40 or so and go back Saturday. (The more park days you purchase, the cheaper and cheaper they get.)

But rain was, once again, in the forecast.

We still hadn't finished up Downtown Disney.

It was our last day there and Monday was coming, as was routine.

Dinner was at 4:00. (And it was going to take some time to get there.)

And frankly - I was afraid of pushing any more.

So we packed everyone up and traveled by bus to Downtown Disney. Again.

This time, it actually wasn't raining yet, so we were able to score just a few pictures outside with the kids. We bought a few souvenirs and gifts for a few friends. We had an early lunch at Wolfgang Puck Express. It was fantastic. No pictures, but it was by far one of the best quick service meals we had. Ansley couldn't figure out why there were leaves on my pizza (bay leaves), but that didn't stop us :)

And we made one last stop at Goofy's Candy Cauldron to redeem some of the 14 snack credits we had left. Many of the items we bought are in our pantry as we speak. Chewy Sprees. Jelly Beans. Snack mixes. But a few of the things we bought came handmade. This is a horrible picture, but frankly, no picture would do it justice.

On the left? Yeah, that's a rice krispy treat. Let me be more clear. That's a Rice Krispy treat covered in chocolate. And not a little chocolate, a lot of chocolate. Then it's doused in reeses pieces. It was delectable and was shared by all four of us. (We all felt we had PLENTY.)

On the right. That's three, count them, three chocolate covered marshmallows. Simple, but heavenly.

We wrapped it up at Downtown fairly early in the afternoon. Dinner was scheduled for 4:00, and we were supposed to be there for check-in 15 minutes early.

Add to those factors that when the front desk gave us directions to the location they told us to allow a full 1.5 hours to get there. That's one and a half, folks.

The directions went something like this:

- Ride the Magic Kingdom bus to the Magic Kingdom.
- Get off and find the water taxi that goes to Fort Wilderness. It should have a green flag.
- If that particular taxi doesn't seem to be running, wait for a bus to Fort Wilderness. They should run every twenty minutes.
- Once you finally get to Fort Wilderness, wait for an internal bus to take you back to the restaurant. This can take several minutes because there are several stops.

My mouth was literally hanging as she wrote the directions down. It wasn't until we'd got to Downtown Disney that it had occurred to me, "Hey, we have a car here. I wonder if it's shorter to drive."

Turns out it is, and we arrived at the Hoop Dee Doo Review almost 45 minutes early for check in.

Yes. You heard me. The Hoop Dee Doo Review. Believe it or not, that dinner was our 'splurge' dinner of the week and required two dining credits per person. (A side note: the two dining credits - totally worth it. All your food is included, plus it's a show, plus drinks - including some alcoholic selections for those interested. It also includes gratuity. Without the dining plan, the cost for all four of us would have been around $180. Because we were on the dining plan, it was free :) )

Admittedly, this is not a restaurant I would have sought out myself. I take zero credit. A sweet friend who is a previous Disney Cast Member made the suggestion when I reached out to her about things not to miss. She prefaced that, "I went with a bad attitude and thought I'd hate it, then I loved it," and encouraged us to make a go of it if we could swing the cost or found it worthy of two credits on the dining plan.

I'm not a dumb woman. When someone knows a lot more about something than I do, I take their advice. (She also suggested going in the fall for free dining! She's worthy of listening to!)

So I booked it as our last night, one last sit down, enjoyable meal as a family.

Let me first say - Fort Wilderness is that, wilderness. Not like tents wilderness. But RV's wilderness. With horses, and a lake, and a couple of cabins scattered about. And that internal bus she told us about, yeah, it really did make many stops before our stop.

But - while we were waiting our 45 minutes to check in, I got to prove I still have the mad hula hoop skills I've always had. Oh yea.

And it got to rain again.

And I got to take this cute pic of Ans with the new purse she'd bought that day. She's such a girl :)

Sweet.

And finally we were checked in.

Now, I've made it through like 8 blogs with not one complaint, so I'm not going to start now. I'll just offer a word of advice. Hoop Dee Doo Review tickets come in tiers. You can get Tier 1, Tier 2 or Tier 3 seating. I called around 4 months in advance and Tier 3 was all that was remaining. If you have the option, go with Tier 1 or 2. Your view of the stage - and your family, for that matter - is much better. Again, not a complaint, just an observation.  (Another suggestion, if you don't want to be made part of the show - because a lot of people don't - stick with Tier 2 for the best chance of that happening and still having better seats.)

So let's move on to the food. Fantabulous!

When you sit, you've got a big ole loaf of cornbread. And not just any cornbread. SWEET cornbread. There's also salad. Both are great. Soon comes fried chicken, BBQ ribs, corn, BBQ beans, and mashed potatoes. Real southern cookin', at it's finest, and it's all you can eat.

The show is fantastic. It's funny, cute, and somewhat interactive. It kept the attention of my three year old, and the hubs and I laughed at many things that we know went way over the heads of the kids. The kids got to sing at the top of their lungs, swing their napkins in the air, and play a washboard by the time it was all over. Who am I kidding?! I did all of those things, too!

It was all out fun, and with all of the things to do at Disney, I would not have passed this up. It was relaxing and enjoyable. We enjoyed it as a last night activity, but several there were using it as their arrival dinner. Also a great idea!

And the finale? The finale was this yummo Strawberry Shortcake! Props to Momma in the kitchen for whipping this up for the whole restaurant ;)

The turn around time here is unreal. Our reservation opened at 4:00. We were seated very shortly after. It's my understanding the next group comes in at 6:00. We left at 5:55. That's Disney perfection at it's finest.

And so the trip was coming to an end. I don't do the end of vacations well. I never have. It's sad and depressing, and really starts to set in sometime when I hit the midway point.

When we returned back to our hotel, I still hadn't packed, but I wanted the kids to be able to swim. So we donned our swim attire and headed down to the 'heated' pool.

Turns out a heated pool doesn't do you much good if you can't bear to get in it. The kids had a great time, but I shivered in the '70 degrees with a breeze' night air.

They swam until pruny, and we sat at the edge and enjoyed their enjoyment.

That really was the theme of the trip. I've been to Disney before and loved it. I'm really a kid at heart.

I could go back without kids some day and enjoy it, but frankly, I wouldn't want to.

This trip, I saw Disney through a whole new set of eyes. I saw it through the eyes of my children.

I saw their wonder seeing Mickey Mouse the first time. I listened to Ans' hilarious giggle / scream on every fast ride we rode. I saw fireworks light up in their eyes. I heard "zip-a-dee-doo-dah" be sang over and over and over again, unprompted, in the shower, and I saw B break multiple troubling habits he had picked up in the last couple months as he was able to relax with a family who was relaxing and focusing on him.

In sharing stories when we returned, I was told that B would probably remember the trip, but Ans probably wouldn't. And I don't doubt that. I don't doubt that most of the moments of that trip will be forever lost somewhere in Ans' three year old mind.

But.

(There's always a 'but.')

But my six year old Ans who 'may have' remembered wouldn't have reacted like my three year old Ans did. And I will never, ever forget her eyes lighting up when she met Ariel and she pulled out her dinglehopper to show her. I will never forget that shrill of enjoyment that rang from her lungs riding the Barnstormer for the first time. I won't forget her sweet little face when she declared that Space Mountain was her favorite ride, even though she really only rode the People Mover through it. And I won't miss that little sleepy face that graced my bed every night.

Sure. She will have pictures.

But.

But I - yes, I - will have the memories.  And those memories, well, they were worth every penny.