snow day!

how lucky we are.

this morning everything is covered in white.

my neighbor, emily sent me this link today.

http://reallyquitelucky.blogspot.com/2010/01/kid-activity-for-snow-days.html

with an invitation to come play out in the snow.

emri was so excited.

she woke up this morning saying,

“its christmas! its christmas!”

we searched our house for spray bottles and squeezer bottles.

we poured water in the bottles with some food coloring: purple, pink, blue, red, and yellow (by the way…yellow may not be the best color for snow)

and we ran outside and painted the snow! the spray bottles were awesome because it looked so much like spray paint!

the kids had so much fun.

happy snow day!

***

sweet memories

i have all these little posts that keep piling up because i just haven’t had the space or the heart to write.

like my 30th birthday party

our trip to circle s ranch

christmas

emri’s birthday party

my new nephew…sweet, baby hank

a new job

a few struggles…

when i find the time, i’ll post them. not really for your sake. but for ours. for the sake of remembering. remembering all that my family is learning and the burdens that we are carrying in this season. the lessons that are weaving their way in and out of every day. lessons that are so formative. and i’m learning that pain usually comes from a deficit in my life. and i’m learning that deficit in our lives gives way for provision. and i get to see God provide things for my family out of nowhere. and those provisions become memories. and those memories become what my family calls stones.

hence my blog.

i have a few stones piling up. but i’ll mark those memories later. but for now, i have a four year old that is growing up quickly.

she never ceases to warm my heart.

even when i’m sad i get to look across the room and see emri playing dress up…looking at herself in the mirror.

***

so, i’m driving in the car with em in the backseat.

she’s pretending to read a book.

i haven’t seen her all day so i’m gitty to be near her.

the dialogue i hear coming out of that little mouth is fantastic.

“jesus is coming down”,

emri says in a high pitched voice, as she turns the page in her book.  (she is making this story up as she goes)

“no! he’s already here!” says em’s low pitched voice.

“yes. right this way!” -back to a high pitched voice.

i interject,

“emri, are you excited to learn how to read?”

emri looks confused. she gets quiet and you can tell she is deep in thought. then her eyes get big,

“i know how to read?”

“not yet, baby, but soon you will learn.”

she pauses and thinks.

“can you read, mom?”

“emri, i read to you every day. of course.” (duh. i’m a mom. moms can do everything.)

“well, how old are you?”

“30″

“oh. i’m four. you’re still bigger than me.”

these are priceless conversations to me.

***

earlier this week we went to trader joe’s.

emri is always fascinated with the stickers she gets at the checkout line.

on our way home she figures out that the round floral sticker fits perfectly into the circular part of her seatbelt in her car seat.

she starts giggling.

“look mom! look at my sticker!”

(kids are easily thrilled)

i told her that when she unbuckles, the sticker might rip.

“it won’t rip. i know it.” she sometimes tries to convince herself of things.

i watch her through the rearview mirror. she works really hard at placing the sticker.

and i hear this quiet little prayer.

“dear Jesus, please don’t let this sticker rip. please. amen.”

i guess her sweet prayer was answered because

that little sticker is still there. going on day 4.

and while i’m marking down some sweet little memories… i guess i’ll also include emri’s valentines day party at her school.

we made valentines the night before.

and for the first time, she’s writing them out herself!

i was disappointed the morning of her valentines day party because she didn’t have any valentine-looking clothes.( for some reason this is important to me. )

i quickly grabbed a white tee from emri’s room and ran into my craft room/spare room/wanna-be dining room.

i came out with this. so proud of myself.

(i’m easily thrilled)

i just found pink fabric and ironed it on with double sided webbing. i used a cookie cutter to trace the heart.

emri was super impressed with me. and that made me feel pretty special

***

the kingdom is near

i’m gonna share on my blog some of the stuff ben and i are carrying right now.

its not a pitty party, okay? i think we are on a journey. and i’m pausing to process what we are doing. and part of the processing is sharing it with the world. because i believe that someone out there might benefit from it. and if one person does, than it its worth sharing.

here is one thing i know.

as my friend, laurisa ballew always says,

“God is faithful, and he loves me.”

so i process the difficulty in my life through that lens. which doesn’t mean that i don’t throw my own share of fits. i just don’t allow myself to  land outside of that lens.

 i have this stupid diagnosis called polycystic ovarian syndrome. basically, it means that my ovaries are a little out of whack and i do not ovulate  hardly at all. very seldom do i get a period. i’m a bit broken.

i went to go talk to my infertility specialist. i told him i wanted to get off my medicine. i just needed a break, you know. it was just all too hard to keep doing.

his response was,

“listen, mother nature is a bitch. and forget getting pregnant if you get off medicine. and its only gonna get worse. you’ve got two options: we begin flushing your tubes, and start artificial insemination, or you get on birth control. you’ve GOT to manage this with  medicine.

my internal response was,

yeah, how bout i argue with the guy who has spent the last 30 years of his life specializing in the endocrine system?

but i basically said i didn’t want either. mildly embarrassed i wasn’t taking his advice. what do i know, right?

i just knew i needed a break. we had been on ben’s insurance for the last year. 500.00 a month insurance. ridiculous.

so as we paused from the trying to get pregnant plan and all the medicine, we pulled me off of ben’s insurance.

and applied for an independent plan.

but i was denied coverage by blue cross and blue shield. like any coverage whatsoever.

i felt like some hopeless sick person.

and i work two part time jobs. and i’m losing one of them. and the income isn’t going to be enough to support our family.

so starting next month, our budget is going to be seriously tight. like count every penny, like maybe if we are lucky go to taco bell one night type thing.

and without insurance.

i started adhering to this budget the last month. and all these coping mechanisms surfaced. like, what will i do if i can’t go shopping for myself? will i survive? what happens if i can’t buy this or that? will my life be over? what if i have to say no to so many things that i hate saying no to? what if i have to get another part time job and have to be gone more this next year. what if em is my last child? can i handle two part time jobs?

will i ever freaking get a door to my bedroom? will i ever have a dining room?  a bigger home? come on. everyone should have those things.

“repent and believe for the kingdom is at hand.”

mark 1:15

this verse has meant more to me the last couple of years than ever before. its speaks to the reality that the kingdom of God has come particularly close to you. the kingdom of God in which all things are made new. and whole.

my own paraphrase would go something like,

“think about what God is saying to you, take it very seriously, and respond…He’s trying to rescue you.”

hebrews 4 says,

“today if you hear his voice, don’t harden your heart.”

which would give me the impression that we don’t always hear the voice of our Father so well so when something does move you, don’t take it for granted. and take your response seriously too. for if you shrug off the voice of God, you will forfeit your ability to hear and in time, your heart may be too calloused to discern the voice of God.

open your heart to him.

or you’ll miss him.

i talk a lot on my blog about hearing the voice of God. i’m thankful for the speed bumps he puts in front of me. they jolt me. they feel uncomfortable. and they remind me that Jesus is speaking to me. they remind me to  listen.

the alternative would be to speed through fast enough so that i can barely feel the bumps. i’ll just keep speeding through life. making decisions based upon my deep brokenness. using coping mechanism after coping mechanism. and never really experiencing transformation.

well let me tell you, i want transformation.

i think it would be such a miracle for our situations to change. and i believe Jesus is rescuing us right now from all kinds of terrible circumstances.

and i’m confident that God will provide insurance and the money we need.

but i believe, that the real miracle, would be that i would experience personal transformation.

you can’t fake transformation. the church has done that for years. and that’s why a lot of the unbelieving world thinks that we are hypocrites.

people like to fake transformation. especially christians.

you can muscle your way into faking stuff. but you can’t muscle your way into transformation.

transformation, holiness, the true redeeming work of God cannot be mimicked.

and it comes at a cost. transformation doesn’t usually feel good. its painful at times. and it burns. its hard to bear.

that’s why i think we are tempted to bail out of transformation. it hurts. pull for another coping mechanism, and we’ll be okay.

but transformation is priceless.

its the work of an unseen God. its when he leaves his mark on a human being and they are never quite the same.

when someone experiences transformation, they become more and more of a window into heaven. people who look at them can see a little bit of what Jesus looks like. maybe just a glimmer. but its a view.

and its breathtaking.

 it truly is a miracle.

i think God could answer my prayers for more children instantly. i think he could provide ben and i with all the money in the world.

romans 8:32

he that didn’t spare his own son, but freely gave him over for us all, would he not graciously give us all things?

i just wonder if the sweetest gift in life is our transformation. that maybe we would become little windows to heaven.

 maybe thats what he wants to lavish on us the most.

and i know i’m human and that i still ache and i’m still greedy, and still cling to coping mechanisms that can sometimes take me farther away from Jesus than i anticipate. but, i really ache for Jesus.

hands down, i want healing, provision, a dining room, a door to my bedroom, health, safety, fun, family, adventure, and a whole lot of love.

i believe that Jesus is opening up heaven and pouring all of these things on us.

but deep inside me is this beating desire that the world would see Jesus and that he would change us forever.

***

setting em up for failure

i secretly love that emri doesn’t say all of her words right. i’m not even sure why i just said secretly. there is nothing secretive about the fact

that i’m hanging on to every little moment.

the other day all three of us were at latte land. i with my cup of coconut tea, ben with his black coffee, and emri with her sunrise on the plaza.

she was gitty to see ben. (we met him after he got off work). she kept telling him,

“i want to tell you somsing!”

ben started to correct her when he caught me glaring at him.

he should know better, really.

we will not, under any circumstances, correct her words at this time.

for as long as possible. even if we have to lie to her, she shall continue to call

blisters, blizzards

teeth, teese

breakfast, breskiss

she shall continue to sing

for geese a holly good fellow, which nobody can denise!

and a myriad of other small endearing words.

i’m sincerely setting her up for failure, i understand this.

but heck, it wasn’t until last year that i figured out that chester drawers were actually

chest of drawers. genius.

i feel the need to also share that yesterday morning emri woke up to tell me,

“momma, i had a dream i married a pony. it was so embarras.”

i’m pretty sure that only emri dreams weird stuff like that.

also, since i’m on a roll with my emri, i want to mark down a really sweet memory.

we’ve been reading our bibles together in the morning in front of our big window.

i don’t want to force stuff like this, so i’m always crossing my fingers hoping that she’ll be into it.

and she is.

we are reading the jesus storybook bible by sally lloyd jones.

i can’t make it through the pages without crying. and having emri ask me,

“momma, why are you crying?”

it really is a precious translation of the bible for children and ahem…30 year old women.

so as soon as we wake up, before breskiss, we climb up on the couch. open the curtains. and wait for the sun to come up.

ironically, or maybe just because God is real and alive, the first chapter we read is talking about Jesus being the light of the world, that chases away darkness.

we watch the sun creep up over the houses across the street and slowly light up the sky.

emri is fascinated that Jesus is like the sun that chases away darkness.

and so am i.

emri puffs out her chest, raises her eyebrows, and confidently pipes up,

“i’m not afraid of the dark, and i can even fight bears.”

(i never really know how to respond to that)

i should have said, “really, is that why you make me turn your night light on every night?”

we move on with the story.

emri interrupts,

“mom, if the doctors cut open our hearts, will they see Jesus?”

i said no. because we can’t see Jesus with our eyes yet.

“momma, i want to see him.”

i told her she would one day. i said one day when we get to heaven, we will see him and start running for him. and he’ll scoop us up in his arms and hug us. like a big grandpa would.

i told her that Jesus would be her favorite. that she would love him the most.

i told her that his house was so cool. way cooler than even grammy’s or gigi’s house.

emri’s eyes got big.

“i want to go now.”

i told her we would. one day.

she’s like a sponge. and i get to tell her about Jesus.

probably, one of the coolest responsibilities in the whole, wide world.

***

3 eggs

oh dear. where to start? i’m a little behind on things.

 we all celebrated christmas. wasn’t that just a couple days ago?

and a new year. (merry 2012 by the way) emri turned 4. and we have a 45 pound puppy romping around our small home. (who has now ruined my suitcase, 23 pairs of underwear, 5 socks, 2 scarves, my favorite gaucho pants) -how do i still love him?

other things that are taking place in the  myers’ home…

emri is still playing office in the living room

note the small table and miniature frame. this is her go-to for office set up

also…

i’ve started the paleo diet
(with a few cheat days)

so i no longer have jars of candy on my kitchen table, i have…

and we’ve been cooking meals that look like…

and something else i believe deserves honorable mention…

we introduced mary to decker. and let me tell you, its by the grace of God that mary is still alive.

and last but not least….

our chickens (we are not sure which ones)

laid their first eggs!

or as emri said,

“our chickens aid leggs!”

apparently when i was taking a picture of emri, decker thought that included him.

but seriously. eggs. we have eggs!!

***

weakness

it seems like i’ve been more aware of my weakness lately. and to be honest, the more aware i become, the more aware i am of my insecurity. and insecurity seems to be hovering over me like a dark presence, whispering crude things to me continually. i confess that my infertility has made me feel weak. like i’ve lost my right as a woman and mother to bear precious little beings. precious little beings that i long for. and i feel broken. and that has led to insecurity. i feel as though insecurity sometimes eats away like cancer. and can be just as toxic as pride.

and i feel like our lost world denies the reality of our weakness subliminally and outwardly secreting the message every where that we need to speed up our lives and make it busy because if we keep consuming or keep spending our lives trying to produce so many creative and or money producing things that we will be competent and will gain a real sense of identity. blinding us from our pain and making us obsessed with whatever idols we have set up in our lives.

 like a blind herd of cattle saying “more, more.” in a zombie like trance. ignorant of the things God has for them. so obsessed with what their world has to offer they can never hear the voice of Jesus. as long as they are moving with a bunch of others, they feel okay.

when i say “they” i do not exclude myself.

when i find myself stumbling in the midst of a mass consuming herd, i realize that i have been masking my pain with business and never really dealing with my weakness. because i don’t want to be weak. right? who wants to be weak? the herd says you can’t be weak! pretend your okay! don’t deal with with your weakness. every things fine.

but thankfully Jesus allows me to feel my pain. He allows my pain to be too great to be ignored. i can turn and realize i’m hurting and that nothing can heal me except for Jesus.

its just Him.

only He can.

because Jesus seems to speak another language. he says bizarre things like,

“blessed are those who are brokenhearted“

and He moves people like Paul to say ridiculous things like

“i wil not boast in anything other than my weakness.”

what?

and Jesus responds with

“my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

i read that this morning. and the words just seemed to take root in my heart.

if Jesus’ strength is made perfect in weakness then what does that say about my life?

and as the words are echoing in my mind i’ve realized that i’ve been in denial. if His strength is made perfect in weakness, then why do i cover it up so much and try so hard to pretend or convince myself that i am strong?

have i robbed myself of the power of God?

i speak of my weakness confidently when i feel the presence of my Father so near that I’m swallowed up in His shadow. and His very being encloses me and i no longer know how broken i am. i just see Him and its as if nothing else matters. and if anyone would mock my brokenness or willingness to be transparent my response would only be,

“do you know who i belong to? Do you know he’s proud of me? Do you know how powerful he is? Do you know he fights on my behalf and that he is stronger than you?”

i refuse to boast in my strengths. because at some point, my own strength will abandon me.

today i’m proud of my weakness.

***

.

advent

advent.

ben and i partnered together and made this advent calendar this year. i had major plans to fill all the little bags with verses, parts of the christmas story, little treasure hunts and family activities. sadly, i only filled two little bags. next year, this advent calendar will rock.

we have on more day to count down until christmas.

we are in indiana right now.

our sweet, oversized puppy is snuggled up on my in laws floor.

emri is running around giggling, over the moon to be at grammy and papas.

there is nothing left to do but just enjoy one another, this is when the best part of christmas begins.

merry christmas eve!

***

i’ll trade it

i’m sitting on my bed reading and journaling. the socks i’m wearing have been on my feet for more than one day.

it is 10:00 am.

i’m in my jammy jams. (we all call them that right?)

and i’m sitting here trying to focus on the things in my life that i know are true and real.

i feel behind and distracted.

but i distinctly hear Jesus say to me,

“with what? what are you behind in?”

the tone was gentle. it always is.

my heart calmed. my breathing relaxed. i felt the warmth that i always do when i hear Him.

you’re right.

i usually put more on my plate than God does. i have greater expectations of myself than Jesus has. i work too hard for things that are meaningless to Him. i hear Jesus inviting me into something different. His rhythm is so different then the word’s rhythm around me.

there are these moments. that are just moments between me and Jesus. where he speaks to my heart or puts something in my vision. when my mind, body, heart, and environment all line up. and his voice is so clear.

and my response is always tears. vulnerable trust in something so much greater than i am.

because his voice is always clear in those moments. so powerful, but so gentle.

and my world shifts and i see him for who he really is. and i want to give him all that i have for everything he is.

i want to trade all of it.

for him.

and the joy i find as i experience and take in this invisible God cannot be compared with anything. anything.

and that joy is worth fighting for.

i love him.

i love Him with parts of me that i cannot even love ben, emri, or my family with.

its like i was created with a capacity to take in Jesus. and its deeper than anything i’ve ever known.

i love him.

and it seems trite to say i’m thankful because he is the reason i even move and live and have my being.

i write this because as i was reading 1 john, i couldn’t help but pick up my computer and type this out. i identify with paul when he wrote,

I john 1: 1-5

“that which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life (Jesus)

the life was made visible to us,

and we have seen it, 

and we speak to it,

and proclaim to you the eternal life which we have experienced and which we have seen and heard,

we proclaim to you,

so that you too may have this fellowship with us,

and indeed, our fellowship is with the Father, and his son, Jesus Christ.

we write these things, that your joy may be complete.

only Jesus completes my joy. he completes the aches in my heart and gives me the ability to find more joy in the things that matter.

i refuse to give my love, my affections, my time and resources, my life away to worthless things that are inconsequential and meaningless.

deep breath. i’ll trade the inconsequential for the joy Jesus is bringing me any day.

***

decker

Jesus gives good gifts.

He is the author of every good and perfect gift,

 i believe that with all of my being.

 we received a little christmas gift last night.

and his name is decker.

***

emri’s prayer

i wish you could hear my sweet 3 year old’s voice tonight as she prayed.

she asked me if she could pray tonight as i was tucking her in.

“dear Jesus.

help us pray

and help us believe.

and please give us a new house.”

this has been a difficult month for ben and i as we have decided to stop the process of trying to get pregnant.

my faith has taken a hit.

and so my prayers have been,

“help me believe.”

and i’ve been singing a song to her as she goes to bed called “help me believe.”

and i’m so moved that my words have made their way into her prayers.

and it is the most sweetest thing to hear

“help me believe”

come out of her little mouth. because i know that she will be praying those words for a life time.

and that He will be faithful to those prayers for the rest her life.

***

here is the song i’ve been singing to her

take me back, to the time when i was maybe 8 or 9…

and i believed.

when Jesus walked on waters blue, and if he helped me i could too…

if i believe.

before rational, analysis, and systematic thinking robbed me of a sweet simplicity.

when wonders and what mysteries were far less off than silly dreams and child hood fantasy

help me believe cause i don’t want to miss any miracles. maybe i’d see much better by closing my eyes.

so i would, shed this grown up skin, i’m in

to touch an angel’s wing. and i would be free.

help me believe.

~nichole nordeman