The DVR of Life

Have you ever been in a moment of your life where you wished you could hit 'pause' on the DVR?

Or rewind?

Maybe choose an alternate ending? Watch deleted scenes?

Really, life doesn't always feel like a High School Musical. Why do Disney ...or Hollywood want us to think it should?

Now, that is not to say that life cannot be filled with joy and abundance. That is what He desires for us.

But it doesn't come from hitting pause. Or rewind.

It comes from knowing Him. Loving Him. Following Him.

Just push 'play.'

Lenten List

Happy Lenting, Y'all.

Here's my list, with God's help, and to Him be the glory...

• no eating out (read: no Bread Co; no Bread Co coffee; no, no, no)
• limit computer to one hour per day (read: no checking emails, FB, or blogging more than 1 hour. per day)
• Love Dare

I'm not Catholic. I just believe God's sacrifice to me was so great that the least I can do is spend a few weeks sacrificing my coffee and my computer, and loving my husband as He first loved me.

I've given things up before --- Bread Co. tops the list. Yearly. (Guess where we are every Easter morning??) And one year, while pregnant, I gave up all sweets, including chocolate. That may have been a mistake. I made a LOT of cookies for my kids that Lent. Why do I do that?? Tempt myself unnecessarily??

What are you giving up for Lent?

The Overwhelming

What do you do when you wake up one day and realize this is the fairytale you've been awaiting? You pray to God, then open your eyes.

And the toddler your husband laid beside you in bed to try to coax a few more minutes of sleep from head butts you in the lip and draws blood. Your blood.

And the daughter you woke every four hours for overnight to give those precious breathing treatments to begins a coughing fit that reminds you, really, you slept through that last treatment.

And the playtime you promised the kids turns into seven people talking and demanding your attention all at once when there are only four standing before you. One of them actually lying on the ground screaming because you told her "no." An hour and a half ago.

And you remember in high school when you did your teacher work-study program and vowed never to work with more than one child at a time --- which was why you went into speech pathology instead of teaching and fought so hard for the hospital to stick with individual therapy, not group therapy. Yet God gave you twins. And then two more after that.

And you realize you play board games and read them books for a very good reason. (It's quieter.)

And you also realize you aren't writing a blog as a memoir of your life with them, but instead as a reminder of how they tortured you as children, and you want them to know it.

I'm just saying, what do you do?

The Explanation

I've really battled with what to write here. You all know this is basically my journal. Yet I want it to serve as a ... a memoir for my kids, a tale of what life was like for me in order to help them when it is their turn to raise a generation... And I want them to see that life as a Christian can truly be a battlefield, and we all do the best we can. Well, we should be doing the best we can, within the confines of our earthly selves.

Today, our pastor shared with us that 'the laws' (10 Commandments) were not written for us to try to please God, but instead for us to follow until we reach the end of our means and realize we can't really make it without God.

98.8 is the percent of myself that I have discovered I am giving in an area that I truly and unequivocally should be giving 100% (or more...)

It came to me last week in a lightning strike. My women's Bible study is currently discussing Life Management for the Busy Woman. I am loving it. And one afternoon, as I sat in my husband's comfy leather chair in front of the roaring fire while three kids were at school and Little Sleepless in Sasha was actually napping, I worked diligently on my study. (What a blessing--- when will I have these moments again yet be in such a glorious season of my life with these little ones surrounding me?!) And I reached that part where David confesses his sins and asks that the Lord uncover the secret ones within his heart. And for the first time in my 35 years of life on this earth, I felt a sword pierce my heart and my breath escaped me in a sob.

And I realized.

I realized that I have been giving 98.8% of myself. And for years, I have had no idea. And it was devastating to realize why.

And then I saw the weaving that had begun months ago for all of this to come to me as it has. And I fell apart. That God would take my hand and slowly, methodically, lovingly walk me through to the place that would bring me here. To tonite.

And I love Him for it. And I thank God for the choices He has allowed me to make - and I step forward in faith with Him that I will be who I am supposed to be...everyday, with His help.

May God make it so.
~Karin

98.8

Have you ever read a blog post that made no sense to you?

Well, today you have. This one's for me, Girls.

98.8

Hey Grandpa!

Kiss our candy lips!

Whoa, Pookie - say no to Botox, Girl!

Thanks, Pops! They're yummy :)

(and now you've been featured on my blog ;)

~k

Life with 2 Dogs

We brought home two puppies last summer after losing our sweet but - oh - so - bad dog Riley (he was really a good dog - in a hyperactive-crazed-never-grew-up-gigantic-puppy sort of way). Which brings me to these two.

Life with puppies is fun. And having two? Well, it's like having twins, right? Have a GINORMOUS preggo belly? Tell people you're having twins and STAND BACK! No, seriously, stand back. Cuz people will pet you. Your belly, anyway. And I'm not a puppy, people!!! Put two carseats with newborns in your WalMart shopping cart and run. I said RUN. Because people will chase you down to touch your babies. Fortunately for heart moms nowadays they have stickers you can put on your carseat that read: DON'T TOUCH MY BABY WITH YOUR GERMY FINGERS! (OK, it says something much sweeter - but that's what I always wanted to say...) But my point is attention! You get all kinds of attention! The kids walk the puppies and everyone's their best friend! The husband walks the puppies and girls of all ages swoon (I'm not bitter...).

Then those puppies turn into ... well, puppies in grown up bodies! Because everyone pretty much knows that golden retrievers have stunted maturation, right? Which basically means they stay puppies for a looooooooooooooong time.

Take, for instance, the afternoon I brought the puppies (well, they're as big as dogs now) home from their pleasant stay at the neutering joint (lovingly called the vet - he's currently in the Poconos after we funded the trip, but again, I digress).

Kind Mr. Vet patiently explains to the mom with two dogs and four kids clamoring around his tiny portal of an office, "Try to keep them calm. Don't let them fight. They need to be good dogs for about two weeks (after their procedure....) {oh good...I thought he was talking about the kids}. Here are some tranquilizers." I gave that doctor a once over. Were those meant for the kids or for me? OH!!! The dogs! Then I rolled my eyes and walked out. With every good intention of being the good dog mom. Good intentions, I tell you.

Before taking our half-drugged puppies home, I had to run one errand. On a busy highway south of our home.

Rewind. Have I told you that we have one good dog-puppy. And one not-so-good dog-puppy? My husband and I laugh - because we've had one good dog and one really not-so-good dog before. And God reincarnated those two dogs (if I believed in such a thing) into the form of these two brothers living with us currently. It's uncanny.

Fast forward. Running an errand. With the four kids and the two drugged dogs who are supposed to remain calm for two weeks riding along in the van. I open the door to run into the store. Bad Dog escapes. But he doesn't just escape. He leaps four paws in the air out of the driver's side door onto the icy pavement below. He careens several feet into the face of a cement curb. He doesn't miss a beat. He bounds up and takes off running down the highway after a truck. A four lane highway. A very big truck. My half-drugged freshly neutered dog-puppy.

I stand there. Paralyzed. What? What? What the - ? How much money did I just pay to have a chip strategically placed into your backside and your private parts removed? What?!?!

LUKE! I screamed. LUKE!

WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU CRAZY FOOL DEMENTED DOG?!?! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO STAY CALM! LUKE! LUKE?

I half run out into the street before realizing cars are zooming past me in both directions. My dog/puppy weaving in and out of traffic at cheetah-like speeds, fruitlessly pursuing an uninterested vehicular love prospect.

When suddenly, he turned. He skidded to a stop. He turned his body lithely in the opposite direction from which he had been going. And now I.was.his.target. That dog had the goofiest, happiest, (drugged??) expression on his face that I had ever seen on a dog in my life. And that dog ran like it was dinnertime all. the. way. back. to. me. And then he sat. At my feet. Tongue hanging out. Panting.

And when I opened the door to the van, he climbed inside.

The end.