The Square Peg

It has been a year since we said good-bye to our boys and got on a plane to move from Georgia, USA to Germany. That long, tearful, sob-filled group hug was absolutely heart-wrenching. Ryan was 23 and Drew was 20 but despite their adult ages, they didn't want to let us go and they held on very tightly as we hugged and said all the things you say to the people you love most when you don't know when you're going to see them again. We didn't have the boys take us to the airport; instead we chose to say good-bye on the base, outside our hotel room. The Atlanta airport was nearly two hours away and I knew it would take that long for my swollen eyes and red, splotchy face to clear up (to say I look rough when I cry is putting it mildly). Saying good-bye to them was every bit as hard as I expected and simply thinking about it a year later still brings tears to my eyes.

We had 7 months to prepare for our move overseas. And while we knew we couldn't know every way our lives would change after we moved, we were very aware of the fact that our family would never be the same again. It wasn't just that we were turning a page; we were starting a new chapter, possibly even a new book in the "Miller Time Chronicles" series. There were so many questions that were yet to be answered. Questions like: would the boys be married by the time we moved back to the States? Where would they live? Would we have any grandchildren in 4 years? Would we like living in Germany? How would it feel to live in a country that doesn't have air conditioning, even though it gets well into the 90's during the summer? Would the Germans like us? What will it be like to live in a house without either of our kids?

It has been winter in our family...winter in that many things we knew before this season were going to die in a way; winter in the sense that part of our family life was going to become dormant for a season.

If I were to make a guess based on my friends' Facebook status updates, I'd say most people think winter is dark and dreary and makes them wish for the summer weather to return. A lot of people curse winter; some have even moved to Florida or Hawaii to avoid it. But given that we have to let go of some things in order to have room in our hands to receive new things, I think we should look at winter in a new way and maybe even consider welcoming it.

I enjoy winter. I love the snow and cooler temperatures. I love sleeping with the windows open and feeling the cool air around me as I'm tucked into a warm bed under a big, billowy comforter and surrounded by pillows. I seldom want to curl up in a blanket and snuggle to watch a movie in the summer (especially not in the south), but it's almost a daily desire in the winter. I love what winter brings: spicy scented candles (nobody burns a pumpkin pie candle in June); a whirlwind of seasonal decorations; hearty soups and stews; even different colored clothing and hair (have you ever noticed most winter clothes are darker and more muted in color--and that many women put blond in their hair during the summer but go dark for winter?). I love these things even though I don't necessarily want them all year long (although, after living in the south for 17 years, I'd like to experience a season other than summer from March-November!).

During the winter, things die off or become dormant: grass, flowers, plants, etc. But just because you can't see the flower's blooms, doesn't mean it's not under the surface, waiting for the right time to pop out of the ground and beautify your life again.

A few months after we left Georgia, we found out both boys would be making us grandparents just before spring arrives. Rhody and Emma are the newest bulbs in the Miller family garden. Some of the answers to our questions are growing and being answered much sooner than we expected. LOL Others are still a mystery.

Winter can be cold and hard, but winter is like challenging seasons in our lives; it precedes spring. Spring brings new life, new hope, and new promises. But you can't have spring without going through winter first. Some winters are mild, some are extreme. But don't curse the cold or get discouraged by the dormancy of the season; hang in there and try to enjoy the unique comforts of the winter. And even if this spring isn't exactly like last spring, that doesn't mean it won't be amazing.

Embrace winter.
This post is part of the One Word at a Time blog carnival. Please go to Peter's page to read more entries and to submit one of your own.

I think joy is intentional. I also think it's related to peace, as well as happiness.

Joy is intentional. 
There are a million reasons to become upset, hurt, angry, bitter, and depressed in life. People will spitefully use you, maliciously hurt you, take advantage of you, and sometimes even blame you for their own self-destruction. Money won't always be your BFF; neither will your health. And possibly not even a job.

But you can intentionally seek reasons to be joyful.

Christians are supposed to have a hope in Christ, but I know some atheist, agnostic, and humanist friends who are more hopeful during trying times than some of the Christians I know. And we all know someone who is negative about everything, no matter what's going on in his life. You know who I'm talking about: the person you're afraid to ask how things are going because you know he's actually going to tell you. I know a woman who is so negative, that on the occasions when I bump into her, I walk away feeling verbally assaulted with all of her negativity and dissatisfaction with everything around her. And to make it worse, she's a topper. So if she's having it bad, her bad is worse than any bad anyone else has ever had. And her great times are superior to everyone else's as well, although they're few and far in between. It's hard for me to be any kind of friend to this gal because it doesn't seem like she wants to be happy, and I'm a fixer by nature.

Joy is related to peace.
Intentionally looking for reasons to be joyful often brings me around to re-examining my core beliefs and ultimately, I find peace.

I am an eternally optimist person. One of my deeply held beliefs is that things work out well in the end. When things aren't looking good, I'm convinced it's not the end. I'm still sitting in my seat, waiting for the fat lady to sing.

I've navigated my fair share of life's hardships. And I can honestly tell you that through all of them, I have believed that some how, some way, at some point, things will make sense and they'll work out for the best. Now, that 'best' isn't always what I thought was best, but I've always been able to look back on a situation or season after it was over and see that what it ended up looking like was indeed, for the best. Including the two-month marriage to my physically abusive ex-husband, as well as the ensuing two years it took me to legally get him out of my life. It was a pretty rough season in my life, but when I look back on that tumultuous time, I can definitively say I never felt alone. And that's a peace that brings joy.
It's hard to stay cranky and bitter when you trust the One who says He loves you and has you in the palm of His hand. I personally believe God loves us simply because we exist. After all, that's why I love my kids. My love for them never hinges on their behavior and I expect God is the same. When I find that I'm having a pretty easy time gettin my grumpy on, it's usually because I'm not confident that God is still on the throne. Thinking I'm here alone feeling lost and abandoned makes me do crazy, desperate things. But stopping to catch my breath, and remembering the things I've already experienced relating to God's character, usually brings the proverbial cold water splash to the face that snaps me back to a reality of confident knowledge. And that leads to happiness because I am able to intentionally find some joy in life.

Let's take off that Garment of Grumpiness and go find some joy. Cause our Daddy loves us like no other and despite how we might "feel", that actually means something. And let's not trust our emotions all the time; they have a tendency to take off and when they do, we don't want to be on board.

Eva

There once was a woman who was sitting in her kitchen with a guest, chatting and sippin' on iced, sweet tea. After a while, the hostess suddenly smacked her guest on back of the hand. The guest began to howl claims of disbelief and pain. She went home, wailing to anyone who would listen about what a terrible person the hostess was.
The end.

Sucky story, huh? I thought so, too.

At first, it's easy to think wow, that hostess is something else.

But shouldn't we instead wonder:
Why did the hostess smack her guest's hand?
What did the guest *do* to warrant getting smacked?
I think we should.

The "no boundary = no fault" attitude that's becoming increasingly prevalent really gets my panties in a bunch more than almost anything else I can think of. More than I can tolerate without speaking up. This isn't about a specific person or situation; I'm talking about an entitlement mentality that's making its way across the planet. And it's destroying relationships in its wake.

People who are generally without boundaries in their life often have something in common with one another (aside from the 'no boundaries' philosophy): they rarely have any fault or morsel of responsibility in all previously failed or strained relationships, be they of the marriage, parenting or friendship type.

Coincidence?

I don't think so.

I think this happens because they'd rather hide behind a false pretense than face their weaknesses, insecurities or admit their own lack of integrity.

I think some of them think it's about who did more 'wrong' in a specific situation. But it's not. It's actually about owning 100% of your part...even if that part is only 2%. Because if you deny your 2%, it gets magnified. Truth won't be mocked; it always comes out.

A person's lack of boundaries does not entitle him or her to do or say whatever he or she wants without suffering consequences. If I invite a gal over to my house for dinner, she doesn't just get to help herself to the cookies in the jar on the counter. (I'm speaking metaphorically, of course; we all know I detest baking...if I even *had* a cookie jar, it'd probably contain individually wrapped Oatmeal Creme Pies.)

There are two ways to handle a situation like this. One way is to ignore it and hope it goes away on its own. This isn't really a viable option because it leaves the ignorer feeling disrespected while the offender remains ignorant.

The second way to handle it is to care enough to confront. While it might really suck to have to talk about something that could hurt feelings or cause moments of awkwardness, it solves a couple things in the long run. Either the offender will find someone else's space to invade and assault (and is thereby no longer your problem), or you will cause the offender to rethink her behavior, and provide her with an opportunity for much-needed growth.

I will most certainly (albeit metaphorically) smack the back of her hand. And if she feigns shock and awe when I call her on it and put her back in her place, I'm OK with that. Unbalanced relationships with unrealistic expectations aren't something I'm interested in being a part of. Most other people aren't, either, from the data I've gathered. 

If you confront and lose a relationship, so be it. But you have to be your own advocate if you want  your boundaries respected and maintained. If good fences make good neighbors, then boundaries make good relationships.

Give some thought to yours.

There are a few topics I've been planning to write about and mentoring is one of them, but I wasn't sure how I wanted to broach the subject. The church we've been visiting has a Bible study for women and I accepted the invitation to participate even before I knew the subject of this session's study. I was pretty excited because mentoring is a huge passion of mine. Since we've been discussing it the last few weeks, it seems that now is the time to share some of my thoughts about mentoring.

It's easy to feel alone on our journey through life, and being able to talk to someone who has gone before you is not only comforting, it can be helpful if they're willing to share what they've learned along the way. But you have to be willing to be open, and maybe even change a belief or two. Or twelve.

Most people have a mentor whether they're aware of it or not. Mentors aren't necessarily all-encompassing on life's issues. Many times a mentor is simply a guide for a particular area or season. Some women have mentored me in the area of parenting, others have been mentors for my role as a wife, and others mentored me when I was homeschooling our boys. At one point, I had a mentor who sat down with me each week and asked me several accountability questions, in addition to letting me ask her questions I had about life and faith. I even had a grandparent mentor in Georgia. Moose and I were privy to be friends with a very wise couple whose relationship with their children and grandchildren we *deeply* admire. We took good mental notes and will intentionally imitate some of the things we watched them do with the express hope of reaping some of the results that manifested in their lives/relationships with their kids and grands.

Who is a mentor? Anyone you ever go to for advice or opinion is a type of mentor to you. Obviously you think they may know or see something you don't, otherwise you wouldn't seek them out, right? But do the people you go to for advice propel you forward?

Training is at the core of mentoring/discipleship, so as a parent, I mentored my boys even though they didn't always want or accept my training, leading, guiding or instruction/advice. Ryan has told me several times that he realizes how right I've been about many of the things I've told him through the years. He's also told me how really annoying this is to him. LOL. Sidebar: I don't understand why he can't embrace and appreciate the fact that his mom knows a thing or two about life that can help him avoid potential heartache and pitfalls. I mean, there's no point in both of us paying for therapy, RIGHT?! Anyway...

Since everybody goes to somebody for advice, my question is: what qualifies a person to be your mentor? Are her kids older than yours and you know her mom-experience will give you new tools to use when training your own kids? Does he have a really solid relationship with his wife and you have a desire to fortify your own marriage? Has she been in an abusive relationship so she's able to understand your struggle to break free from a destructive association and move forward without any shackles? Does she have confidence you wish you had and you want to know where it comes from? Has he taken a strong stand that came with a high price, such as losing his job, or the acceptance of his friends? Or do you seek advice from anybody who'll lend you their ear? It's been said "more is caught than taught". Think about what you've caught and ask yourself if you need to make a more concerted effort to be trained and aimed. Training is the act of intentionally teaching knowledge and practical how-to; being aimed is about learning to use your powers for good.

If you've shied away from being a mentor because you don't think you're qualified, think again. If you've ever opened your mouth to give an opinion or advice, you obviously felt qualified. (Hopefully if you knew you weren't, you kept your lip zipped. hee hee) Mentoring isn't about bossing somebody around or telling them how to run their life. Sometimes asking questions so the other person can evaluate things and draw their own conclusions does as much to train, teach, guide and lead than any amount of blatant instruction can do.

So to sum up:
Having a mentor is beneficial.
Don't be stingy, be a sieve; share what you've learned (from life and your mentor) with someone else.
Be discreet. Everybody needs a safety zone. And nobody likes a blabbermouth.
Withhold judgment. People need a soft place to fall.

I'll share more thoughts as the study progresses.

By chance can any of you tell me why the itch to write hits me at 1 am? What's up with that? I prefer that writer's block hit me during the hours of 11pm-7am. Can I work out a trade? :D

Bridget is hosting today's blog carnival. It's open to everyone; if you want to participate, go to her page and leave a comment with a link to your blog after you've posted your entry.

Love is the most powerful force in the universe. And from where I'm sitting, it seems there are 3 categories of 'love' we experience most often.

Casual - This is the kind of love we hear and see the most yet it has the shallowest meaning. It's never meant  in a deep, committed, or sacrificial kind of way.
"I love those shoes."
"I love your hair."
"I love to play golf."
"I love that song."
Casual love doesn't require us to do anything. We can use the word love to describe our feelings and not suffer any consequences when we change our mind. If you don't love those shoes any more, you just stop wearing them. Nobody cares and you won't be held accountable.  

Convenient - This is pretty straight-forward; as long as it's working, we love it.
I used to say I loved Arby's fast food until I lived in Wichita Falls, Texas. The only store in the city was located at the bottom of an exit off the freeway, didn't have a drive-thru and only took cash; no checks or debit cards. You had to really want Arby's to go there. After a few times of spending 30 minutes of my busy life trying to find a parking spot, walking inside and waiting in line, followed by sitting in traffic to get back on the freeway, I realized I didn't really love Arby's as much as I thought or claimed. The hassle wasn't worth the reward.

Sometimes it's convenient to love someone we think we can get something from...whether it's an inheritance, something he/she can do or provide that propels us forward at work, or gives us leverage, position, status or power.

This type of love has hurt me the most personally. Discovering I was convenient to love (and subsequently stop loving) cuts me deeper than being loved casually or conditionally for some reason and leaves me feeling like I've been sucker punched.

Conditional - This is closely related to convenient love but this is typically based on our performance (or lack thereof).
"You obviously don't have what it takes to be with someone like me"
"You called a few times but did you ever come over or offer to help financially?"
"If you can't try to understand me or what I need, then maybe we don't have anything worth fighting to save."

Since no one is able to perform the right way all the time, this type of love is extremely frustrating and typically unfair. It's pretty easy to spot though, because it doesn't take long to rear its ugly head.

Much of the time people who are love casually, conveniently or conditionally aren't even aware of it.

But there is another kind of love. And it also starts with a C.

It's Christ's love. But His love isn't anything like the ones I listed previously. In fact, His love is the polar opposite because there's nothing casual, convenient, or conditional about His love for humanity. He's committed to us. He's all in. He's true blue.

But I think we sometimes try to put His love in the first three categories because we have a hard time grasping it. If I don't love you unconditionally, it's pretty easy for me to assume that God doesn't love me unconditionally, either. But that's so wrong...

If you have only experienced the first three types of love I listed, please hear me: God has crazy love for us and it's not affected by our performance, lack of faith, mistakes/failures, accolades we've received, our ability to study/teach His text, or make money.
He loves us because we exist.
And anyone who tells you otherwise is lying to you.

This morning in church when Ollie was making the announcements about upcoming events, I realized I only have two Sundays left at Lifepoint. Don't ask me how, but I managed to miss that reality before today and it hit me like a ton of bricks and I started crying. I've said that I'm going to try hard not to compare any and all churches we visit to "the LP" but I know that's going to be really tough. So tough, in fact, I've wondered how long it'll be before I won't be tempted to do that. (My guess is quite a while. :-/)

I'm sure tears will fall frequently (and heavily) in the upcoming weeks but I'll move forward as I wipe my eyes and blow my nose, knowing that even though I'll miss the LP, I'm going to the new place I belong. (what a weird concept)

And I'm taking the LP spirit with me.

Because the planet needs more of it.

22 - The # of years (to the day) ago I went on a blind date (set up by my co-worker) and met Moose.
21 - The # of years ago I married him. I was 21. He was 23.
20 - The # of years the Air Force has been moving us around.
19 - the # of times in the day he tells me he loves me, my butt looks good in my jeans, or that I'm hot. I never get tired of hearing any of those things.
18 - The # of couches I think we've had that have been used and abused by my men wrestling on it.
17 - One of the anniversaries he missed because he was deployed. I was particularly sentimental about this one...17 years on the 17th...and it fell on a Saturday, the day of the week we married.
16 - The age Ryan started driving...and we learned there was a whole new dimension to praying, loving and worrying about your kid.
15 - The # of TDY's Moose has had.
14 - This how old Ryan was when Moose taught him to shave. It was a serious dad moment for Moose; he came out of the bathroom a little teary-eyed. His little buddy was rapidly becoming a man.
13 - The # of vehicles we've had...Chevy Sprint, Toyota Tercel wagon, Plymouth Grand Voyager, Chevy Luv, Ford Ranger, Ford F-150, Honda Accord, Hyundai Elantra, Chevy Suburban, Chevy Trailblazer, Ford Ranger, Hyundai Sonata, and an Acura TSX, whom I affectionately call "Jack".
12 - The # of months we spent in marriage counseling. Cost us $100 a week and thousands of $ in credit card debt. Dr. Scott's rule that our session couldn't be discussed for 24 hours (smart man), left us with no choice other than to go to Sears to anesthetize our pain. LOL Took us 3 years to pay it off. It was worth every, single penny.
11 - The # of houses/apartments/trailers we've lived in.
10 - The # of years we had a teenager under our roof. We survived, but not without accruing our fair share of gray hair.
9 - The # of jobs I've had.
8 - The # of dogs we've had: Beemer, Samantha, Mickey, Misery, Dixie, Willow, Mocha and Zoe
7 - The # of hours it takes to drive to TN to visit our family from Georgia. Closest we've lived since joining the AF.
6 - The # of times we've changed bases. Illinois, Washington, North Carolina, Georgia, Texas, and Georgia. 
5 - The # of wedding bands I've bought Brian. He bent 3 at work (to the point of being unwearable), lost 1, and then I got smart and bought one made out of tungsten. I couldn't get it engraved, but it's pretty much indestructible.
4 - The # of candles on Drew's birthday cake when we gave him a new bike. He broke his arm an hour later.
3 - Ryan's age when Brian adopted him. They celebrate their anniversary every July, sometimes in big ways, other times in small ways.
2 - The # of kids we had on our first wedding anniversary. We lived in Spokane, thousands of miles from home with a 3 year-old, a newborn, and no babysitter. It was a cozy celebration indeed.
1 - The number of months until we move to Germany and start a whole new adventure...just the two of us.

I'm a little behind in doing this but I've been kinda busy.

Our request to change our leave date (which we asked for in case the orders didn't get here soon) was accepted. We fly out January 24th. And five months after receiving notification of our upcoming change of station, we got our orders. Now the pace picks up for us...scheduling packing shipments, shipping the truck, turning in my car (it's a lease) and deciding what goes in the suitcases and carry on bags will dominate our thoughts and direct our energies over the next 7 weeks. Those things will also be the direct cause of our stress and headaches during that time, as well as some time after.

We went to Louisiana to visit our friends for Thanksgiving. We had a great time and after having so much fun with Cheryl's girls, I am seriously petitioning God for granddaughters (just not right now).   Annaliese and Eleora played hopscotch and colored on the front porch with me and it rained during the night before we left. When Eleora woke up and saw our artwork had vanished, she told her mom our "skips" were gone. Here are a few pictures that are too cute not to share with you.

Yes, Eleora dressed herself. I think I laughed (or at least snickered) every time I looked at her. So precious!

• the EXTREMELY hot fire at the weenie roast. It was so hot Cheryl thought I was going to walk away from the bonfire with a tan.  The roasting sticks weren't long enough and I was afraid my eyebrows were going to be singed off. (When you read that last part, I hope you read 'singed' with the j sound. If you read it with the g sound, you're probably wondering how a fire could sing my eyebrows off.)
  
• the Tea Party...it was the first tea party I've ever attended. I wish I would've had time to go buy a hat and gloves for it.
  
• the four pounds of spinach dip Cheryl and I consumed at Grandmother's house on Thursday. Well, Troy said it was 4 pounds; Cheryl and I swear it couldn't have been more than 3 - 3.5 pounds tops.
  
• Eleora's sign language/hand gestures when asking for pumpkin bread. She looked like she was snapping a pencil in half while asking, "Miss Eva, can I have a piece of pumpkin bread?"
  
• Kael's numerous reminders to Moose that the boys had to play Halo before bed time. Kael's only 7 years old but he had more kills than Moose did.
  
• Watching Home Alone in the dark and hearing the kids laugh and shriek all the way through it. Especially when Joe Pesci's character's head caught on fire.
• Trying to corral the two dogs when they were in the room with the little kids was like trying to nail Jello to a tree. I think Gabriel got knocked down and/or bumped a record number of times. To say he didn't appreciate it would be putting it mildly.
  
• The ridiculously long, wrong, King Kong trip and order at Starbucks on Black Friday night. (OK, so King Kong wasn't involved in any way, but I wanted to include another "ong" word.) I bet Troy never suggests stopping by Starbucks again. The girl at the window actually told him, "it's Black Friday and we had our butts handed to us all day long." Troy's order was the only one that was correct on the first go-round, even though all the drinks had been repeated to us correctly when going back over the order.
• Troy's one good eye - So Troy has something wrong with one of his eyes and it requires drops to be put in it. The drops cause his eye to dilate...yet he still beat Moose at golf. And read street signs from far distances. And spotted details the rest of us missed in the video game we played. All with "my one good eye". LOL

So there, my souvenir from Thanksgiving--bloggy style. It'll have to do. For now, anyway.
Peace out.

Today I attended the funeral of a friend's dad. "Grandpa" was retired from the Air Force, worked for the public school system and was a volunteer fireman, among other things. He was a noble kind of man, the kind we don't have enough of in this world.

A person didn't have to spend a lot of time with Grandpa to know how much he loved his family, to know that he was an honest, hard-working man, or that he was a generous person. I don't say that Grandpa was generous because he gave money (although he did); he was generous because he gave himself...to his wife, his children, his co-workers and neighbors. And the impact he had on people's lives was very evident today at his service. His children spoke of him with love, admiration, and deep respect. That's not common enough these days, in my opinion. As I was driving to the burial site, I noticed a flag in the distance being flown at half staff. I knew in my gut it was in honor of Grandpa, but couldn't guess who was flying it. It was the Fire Station. And as I approached, I saw the men on duty had pulled one of the trucks out of the bay and parked it by the side of the road with its lights on. And while the mile-long line of cars drove by, the men on duty stood at attention and saluted the procession. I gasped out loud when I saw them because it was neat to see that kind of  respect displayed. And today was a nasty day to be standing outside. It was incredibly blustery and cold, but those men didn't move until we had all passed by.

I've never been to an interment that was attended by the Honor Guard. That was quite a sight to behold. An American flag had been draped over Grandpa's casket and I was standing very near the team at the cemetery as they removed it so it could be folded and presented to his wife. Until today, I didn't know it was possible to fold a piece of fabric with such a high degree of respect, dignity, and honor. Each fold of the material was followed by a trace of its crease to be sure it was right, and the precision of their movements mirrored the pride with which the Honor Guard pays homage to its service-members. From the opening prayer to the gun salute and playing of 'Taps', Grandpa's life of honor was reflected in today's celebration of his life.

Living an honorable life really does mean something. Showing respect to our flag and the people who serve and have served to defend it really does mean something. Honesty, integrity and ethics really do mean something.

Thanks for hosting today's blog carnival, Peter.

When people hear the word grief, thoughts typically gravitate toward the death of a friend or family member. But grief reaches beyond death, and today I'm going to share a couple of the things I'm grieving.

• I'm grieving a relationship that appears to have ended. I knew it was going to change but I expected the change to come after I moved. I knew I'd miss my friend and our time together, but I never dreamed I'd miss her while I was still living here. My heart wasn't prepared for this and I'm struggling to accept the way things are right now.
  

•  I attend a really amazing church and with each week that goes by, I become increasingly aware of how much I'm going to miss it. Podcasts are posted online but it won't be the same as being there. I've never felt like I belonged or fit in any church I've attended as much as Lifepoint.
  

• And five months later, it still feels weird without Mocha being a part of our evening walks.

Because I believe we can't fully appreciate life, joy, fun or happiness without experiencing grief, I won't fixate on what's missing. I'll turn my focus to what I have had: fun memories with my friend; I'll purposefully resist the temptation to compare every church we visit to LP, and I'll remember the nine years we spent laughing at our chocolate lab, throwing her tennis ball so much I thought my arm was going to fall off, and the way she seemed to believe everyone who entered our house was here to play ball or swim with her. And in a weird way, it's comforting to know this season of life will serve to grow and stretch me as much (or more) as any other.

Peace.

I'm participating in a one word blog carnival and today's topic is "remember". Thanks to Peter Pollock for hosting.

When I hear the word 'remember', I don't think about lists to prevent me from forgetting items at the commissary (that's military-speak for 'grocery store'), where I left my keys, or that the dog needs a walk later. For some reason, when I hear the word 'remember' I think about where we came from, our backgrounds, and the feelings, relationships and circumstances that shape us and make us into who we are.

my grandfather and the #1 piece of marital advice he gave me over and over in his thick, rich, deep, Hungarian accent when he was alive. "Love each other, Evi, and don't fight." I remember the way he used to look at me. Not just glance at what I was wearing, or at my lips as I spoke so he could understand what American word I was saying, but the way he looked at me and how I could physically see his love for me on his face. He was taken as a political prisoner of war when the Russians invaded Hungary. He eventually escaped by cutting a fence with a pair of pliers only to find that while he was in prison his wife divorced him, took their daughter Eva, and left the country. It was because of his suggestion that I got my name. Mom wanted to name me something common like Stephanie or Nicole (no offense to readers whose name are Stephanie or Nicole) but he asked Mom if I could be called Eva. I'm glad she agreed because I love my name and its meaning suits me perfectly. It means 'life'.

the prisoners of war. If we can't find them and bring them home, the least we can do is remember them. All gave some, some gave all.

people need to be told they're loved and appreciated. We're all afraid of being forgotten, whether we'll admit it or not. Saying good-bye to friends goes with the territory of being a military wife, but I've become adept at showing people how I feel about them while I'm enjoying their friendship, not just when it's time to move to another base and the fun has to come to an end.

the people/things who affected change in my life.
**Like Lisa Riddle, who let me ask any and every question about homeschooling I could come up with when I started entertaining the idea of schooling Ryan at home. I probably drove her crazy, but she was a trooper. I educated our boys at home for their entire high school career and it was partly because she let me ask questions and ponder my beliefs about parenting, education, and responsibility.
**Like Mrs. Pruett, whose constant reminder throughout my senior year of high school of 'it's easier to keep up than to catch up" deeply influenced my schedule of housework, tasks in the workplace (back when I had a job that actually paid me for my organizational and management skills), and still helps me when organizing big projects and determining the importance of various tasks.
**Like my husband who is never, ever ungracious to people, even when they deserve it. He always takes the high road and never stoops to someone else's level. I love that.
**Like Rick Godwin whose book Training for Reigning helped me realize that little areas of faithfulness are big indicators of trust, responsibility, and character qualities as well as capacities. If you can't handle picking up trash in the church parking lot without getting an attitude, you'll never be able to lead that flock as their pastor. I'm just sayin'.
**Like Fred Rogers, whose children's TV show convinced me that I (as well as all others) really did have value. Laugh if you want, but I never hear the word 'neighbor' without thinking of Mr. Rogers, his sweater, and the shoes he changed into each day. In fact, the six-year-old next-door calls me "neighbor" because she can't remember my name. And every time she does, I smile - and remember Mr. Rogers.

I've worked off and on since I was 15 or 16. The jobs I held while the boys were being educated at home were part-time jobs. I didn't work full-time until a few years ago, when Ryan had graduated and Drew was close to being done with high school. I've always loved the relationships I made at work, and I was definitely stretched and challenged (especially by one particular person I worked with).

Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of my quitting work outside the home. It wasn't an easy decision but it was definitely the right one. The original plan was to find another job to replace the one I gave up. You may be wondering why I gave up a job before finding another, especially in this economy, but there were extenuating circumstances that dictated I get out of that place ASAP. I looked for another job for a couple of months and went on a few interviews, but nothing earth shattering or wonderful banged on my door.

One day Moose asked me how I was enjoying being home. I told him I was really enjoying taking care of things at my leisure but I also missed making money. He knows how much satisfaction I get from looking at a paycheck and knowing I earned every, single dollar. When I asked him how he was enjoying my being home, he quickly and without hesitation told me he loved it. He said the house was more calm, peaceful, less chaotic, cleaner, more organized and that life basically just ran smoother all the way around when I was at home managing things. (Wow, who knew I did all that?! Go, me!) The decision to stop looking for a job was pretty easy. Living without my paycheck took some getting used to, though. When I noticed the date on the calendar yesterday, this 'anniversary' popped into my head and I realized that even though I've always loved working, I really enjoy being at home. It's been a peaceful year, and I was able to join Moose on some business trips that I would've missed if I'd been working.

And speaking of Moose...

Today a lady spoke for a few minutes at church and when she began to descend the platform, Moose immediately got up to assist her. She's healthy and mobile and all, but the stairs coming off the platform are pretty short and they're painted black (making them harder to see), and I could tell she appreciated the help. (What? You mean I'm not the only one who's afraid of falling down the stairs in front of everybody?) Anyway, before he even got up, I knew he was going to offer to help her. Why? Because he's a gentleman. There are men who are nice, courteous, polite or whatever, and then there are gentlemen. Do you know what I mean? The dictionary's definition of a gentleman is "a civilized, educated, sensitive, or well-mannered man." and Moose definitely fits that description. In fact, one of the qualities I love most about him is the way he protects others and anticipates how he can help or assist them. And when he got up to help, my heart just swelled with love, admiration and respect for him.

Often underestimated because of his quiet nature, but never, ever outclassed, Moose is truly

I was talking to a friend recently and we got on the subject that all moms gravitate toward when they're talking to other moms. No, not birthing babies. The other subject we always gravitate toward: kids and housework. Before we hung up, she suggested I share some of the things we did when our kids were little with my blog readers. I picked 4 to share with you.

Knowing people are more likely to put things away if it's easy, we kept our boys' shoes in buckets near the front door. They never seemed to mind digging through the bucket when they were looking for the shoes they wanted, but they seldom took the time to put them away if it was inconvenient. These buckets ensured we weren't late for appointments or church because we knew the shoes hadn't been dropped in the hallway, or pushed under the couch or bed.

We taught the boys to do their own laundry when they were about 10. Two laundry baskets were placed side-by-side on the floor of their closets. They put white items in one, and items that weren't white in the other (I admit I'm a laundry racist). When a basket was full, it was time to do a load of laundry. They helped with laundry before this, of course (moving from washer to dryer, putting them away, etc), but this is when they had to take full ownership of all their laundry. BTW, all clothes except socks, underwear, and shorts were put on hangers in the closet. Small children can hang their clothes up and it cuts down on dresser drawers having clothes thrown into them and coming out looking like they were slept in.

We assigned the boys odd and even days to load the dishwasher. This eliminated the arguments of who loaded last and whose day it was to unload (nobody liked to load because the loader also hand-washed the pots & pans that weren't recommended for dishwashers). If they ever had a need to switch days because of a social activity or whatever, it had to be completed the next day. No putting it off to be forgotten or argued about 3 days later. When Drew was too young to be responsible for loading and hand-washing, I alternated days with Ryan but Drew unloaded and dried the hand-washables (if necessary).

The boys started sweeping/vacuuming their bedrooms when they were about 7. Yes, it looked like a 7 year-old did it and I spent a lot of time making them pull the broom back out and re-sweep the corners (& under the bed), but they got better with time. It was worth the patience on my part. They don't always keep things clean now that they're grown (Drew's always been a messie) but they know how to clean, which was my goal. It goes along with that whole "you-can-lead-a-horse-to-water" saying...

Do you have any kids 'n' chores tips you'd like to share?

Comparing yourself to others is a dangerous thing to do. No matter how smart, creative, talented, funny, or fit you are, there will always be someone who is smarter, funnier, skinnier, more creative, and more talented than you. If you're trying to be as good as he/she is, there are two reasons why you'll likely be disappointed. For starters, that other person is not the standard-bearer. And for seconds, you're not in competition with anyone. You're an original; don't live your life as a carbon copy. If you've sung your best note, studied faithfully, given your all, and maxed out your abilities, then that's all you can do and you need to be at peace with it.

But if you're not being the best you you can be, direct your energy into that. There's always room to improve in the areas of mercy, judgment, patience, forgiveness, love, kindness, tenderness, and self-control. But there is a limit on your talent and genius meters. So if you're feeling less than because of a peer who is better, seek a paradigm shift.

This is it...the place where it's revealed whether your love is unconditional or convenient, whether you're in it for the long haul or just while it's the flavor-of-the-month. This is the place that separates men from boys, women from girls; where the rubber meets the road.

Pick your path, growth is certain.
Truth stands forever.
And wisdom is supreme.

The time is now. The choice is yours.

I wondered how a man could effectively write about what "the happiest and most successful women do differently", but a few pages into this book it was clear Buckingham knew what he was talking about, and I was going to reap the benefit of his knowledge.

I used to feel guilty when I couldn't effectively balance the areas of work and home life and believed my problem could be corrected with more discipline and better time management. Now I realize I was pursuing something I was never going to achieve, much less maintain. Buckingham reveals what a strong, happy woman's life actually looks like, what a weakness really is, and how intentionally creating perfect imbalance can bring peace and clarity to a stressful and chaotic life.

Taking the Strong Life Test revealed the lead role I was born to play is that of Creator and my supporting role is Advisor. After reading the descriptions of both I thought "holy cow, you mean all the idiosyncrasies I thought were personality flaws really mean something? And they're useful?!" Marcus Buckingham had just set me free somehow. This wasn't the only "aha!" moment I had when reading this book; there were several.

I plan to go back to school after we get settled in Germany next year and I've been struggling to narrow down the field of study I think I'd most enjoy. Armed with the information I gained from this book, I am confident I will make the right choice.

Who can benefit from reading this book? Stay-at-home moms/wives, homeschooling moms, women working outside the home, and the men who love them. While the book is aimed at women, almost all of what Buckingham writes is applicable to men as well. I highly recommend it.

You can order your copy here.

Several years ago when I worked day shift and Brian worked nights, we started going on a date every Saturday morning. Back then we'd drive to Starbucks in Macon (at 30 minutes away, it was the closest one) to enjoy some coffee and conversation before going to lunch. Since we were little more than passing ships during the week, this was a great chance for us to reconnect, refocus and re-energize our relationship. We'd tell each other the details of the week that got pushed by the wayside and talk about the things coming up on the horizon of life. Our boys were old enough that they didn't call us on the cell phone every 20 minutes (probably because they didn't care where we were or what we were doing) and the uninterrupted time together was heavenly.

Brian was eventually moved back to day shift but our Saturday dates had proven to be too valuable to give up. A couple years ago, my happy place opened a store in Warner Robins (I'm pretty sure my purchases pay Starbucks' electric bill.) and we changed our game plan a little: we started going to Hardees for breakfast and then to Starbucks.

We've invited Ryan and his girlfriend Sam to join us a few times and now it has turned into a regular thing. And Drew's scheduled has changed, so he's been hooking up with us too. And even though our Saturday date is bigger, louder, and more lively than when it began five years ago, it definitely still qualifies as heavenly.

 I swiped this off my friend Lori's blog...you can find her blog here. Yes, we use the same template. Great minds, you know. LOL

T-Mobile Mom to Mom Quiz: "


A couple of the questions were difficult to answer because I would've done two of the choices but could only mark one of them. It was also hard since I didn't send my kids to school and never dealt with a few of the hypothetical situations. Fun nonetheless.