Review

Although several of my friends read The Hunger Games trilogy last summer (or the summer before even?), after hearing the basic plot of the stories, I was unsure I wanted to read them. It sounded unsettling and disturbing. But when I heard the movie was coming out this spring, I opted to go ahead and read them because I have a thing about seeing the movie without reading the book first.

Side note: I actually read The Help last summer so that I could go see the movie with some friends, but something came up and I never went to the movie. So I have read the book but still have not seen the movie - crazy, huh?

I started The Hunger Games and found them so compelling that I finished all three books in under 72 hours. They were well-written and seemed to pull me into what the characters were thinking and feeling as they made hard decisions (or as decisions were made for them).

As much as I was drawn into the series, I was also disturbed by some of the themes and content. I hated what "The Capitol" represented and was uncomfortable with the similarities I saw in the book and in our world today: the way we view entertainment, the huge discrepancy between haves and have-nots, the way I sometimes worry more about what I need than the good of everyone in the world. I was challenged to think and change because of the books. (Although I still feel like I need a book club or support group to help me process my thoughts.)

I have been anticipating the movie, hoping that it would rekindle some of the thoughts and feelings I had for the books. I saw the movie Monday night and have to say that, while I think they accurately portrayed the events of the book, something was missing. I was disappointed and (to use a word from the review I posted below) "under-whelmed."

The characters and setting and events were as I had imagined; but, after reading this review, I think I know what was missing: it was the inner monologue of Katniss. Her thoughts and feelings, and emotions were described in the books in such detail, that there was no way to capture that in the movie through facial expressions and conversations. What they showed was good, but there was so much more to be shown.

I think this article says it well. What do you think?

DST

Josiah (3) just got out of bed, came into the living room and complained, "I'm sleepin' in the middle of the day!" My thoughts exactly.

Divorce

I hate typing the word.

I hate saying the word.

I hate thinking everyone is looking at me thinking the word.

I hate checking the marital status box on medical forms.

It's a word I never would have expected to be applied to me. I mean, I didn't even get married until I was 28, waiting for God's timing. And then I was so happy. Content with my spouse, my children, my life.

But, things happen. People make choices. To say things. To do things. Two people choose how to treat their covenant.

For better or for worse.

What happened to my attitude in the hard times?

For richer or for poorer.

Why was I so anxious about money?

In sickness and in health.

Where was my patience in times of struggle?

To love, honor and cherish.

Did I do this? Daily? To the best of my ability?

I have regrets. And guilt. And more guilt.

But God juxtaposed a conversation with a friend and a quote from a Mark Lowry concert and started me thinking.

A couple of weeks ago, I was talking with a friend about the divorce and how incredulous it was to me that this all happened. She kindly commented that “my sin” and circumstances just happened to be public and that she would not want some of her choices or her sin to be made available for all to see.

I was a little surprised. While I have made plenty of poor choices and did, in fact, sin during my marriage, I have not considered the divorce itself to be a matter of sin for me. I did not want it. I did not pursue it. And I only “agreed” to it, signing the final paperwork because it was holding up the process of buying a house for Jim.

I did not say anything, but continued to consider her words.

A few days later, I attended a Mark Lowry concert. In the midst of his sharing about how we are all able to be used by God, he specifically referred to people who are divorced. He said, “God was divorced” and told us to read Jeremiah 3:8. He went on to encourage us that if we were divorced, God could still use us and to not think of it as a barrier to what God could do with us.

His words were powerful. I went home and looked up the passage and found this:

“I gave faithless Israel her certificate of divorce and sent her away because of all her adulteries. Yet I saw that her unfaithful sister Judah had no fear; she also went out and committed adultery.”

(emphasis mine)

According to this, Mark was right. God gave Israel a certificate of divorce. If God did this, how could it be a sin?

I started researching verses on divorce and found that although divorcing someone can cause them to sin (commit adultery), I have yet to find a verse that says the actual act of giving someone a certificate of divorce is a sin.

I’m still looking and thinking and praying. What do you think?

Cookies

I love cookies. A lot.

In fact, I have often thought that cookies might be my one weakness when it comes to food. There is just something about a cookie that makes me want to keep eating and eating and eating.

It takes a bit of effort to convince myself that eating one (or two) cookies will be just as good as eating 10 (or 12) cookies. And that it will probably be better, in fact, because I won't be willing myself not to be sick from all of the sugar and butter sitting in a lump at the bottom of my stomach.

But, I digress. My point is (was?) that I love cookies and I decided to make cookies tonight. Monster Cookies.

Side note: I cannot decide if they are named Monster Cookies because of how huge the cookies are (you are suppose to use an ice cream scoop to dip them out and place them on the cookie sheet) or because the recipe makes a ton of cookies (it calls for 2 sticks of butter, 2 cups each of white and brown sugar, and 9 cups of oatmeal/flour.)

I originally planned to make them for the students at school to celebrate them doing ISTEP this week. But then I got to thinking about who really deserved cookies:

The students who, yes, have worked hard at testing but who also have gotten extra snacks and recess all week?

Or the teachers and staff who have been cooped up in rooms testing students all week, carefully reading pages of instructions and making sure they do everything just right so that they are not reported to the DOE?

Not to mention the parents who have put their children to bed early and gotten up early themselves to fix scrambled eggs and toast for their elementary children. (Hypothetically.)

It was a no-brainer.

I have already baked around 50 cookies, and I think I have at least 3 dozen to go. So far, I have managed to eat only one cookie. And I'm thinking I should stop there or I may not be able to stop at all.

The bright side of my late night cookie-baking adventure is that I may actually be awake at 9 pm to watch Person of Interest. With a cookie and a big glass of milk.

Randomness

A List of Things I Discovered Today

(Alternately titled "A Desperate Attempt at a Post")

1. The amount of time it takes to clean my bathroom mirror is disproportionate to the difference it makes.

For some reason, when I clean my bathrooms, I often skip cleaning the mirror. After scrubbing the toilet, sink, and floor (and sometimes shower, although I hate to admit how many times I skip that too - is that too much information?), I figure I've done enough.

But today, I looked at the mirror and decided it needed an intervention. So after a few squirts of cleaner and a few swipes of the paper towel (minus the moments of scrubbing those stubborn toothpaste splashes), the mirror was sparkling! Note to self: Clean bathroom mirrors more often to see an instant improvement.

2. Toothpaste does not always end up on your teeth.

While in the aforementioned bathroom, I decided to clean the kids' toothbrushes and cups. I have recently wondered why Josiah's toothbrush seemed hard as a rock and would not brush his teeth effectively.

Now I know it is because there was hardened toothpaste between the bristles. He still uses an "edible" toddler toothpaste because he likes the flavor. (Not that I keep feeding it to him *because* he likes the flavor but because I am afraid if I promote him to regular kid's toothpaste, he might like to eat it; and I think there may be negative effects if he does.)

So, I spent several minutes (more time, in fact, than it took me to clean the mirror!) separating the bristles and rinsing it under warm water and he now has a like-new toothbrush. Madelyn too.

3. Cream of Wheat will always be comfort food for me.

For several months in high school, I had the same thing for breakfast every morning: Cream of Wheat made with milk and a sliced banana on top. It was a bowl of warm, creamy deliciousness to start my day. And it was most likely the best part of my day, since high school was a time of anxiety and insecurity for me; but that is another post entirely.

Anyways, sometimes, I find myself craving a bowl of Cream of Wheat, and tonight was one of those nights. So I whipped some up (I didn't actually "whip it"...more like "stirred it" but that does not have the same ring to it.) I topped it with a sweet ripe banana and a little sugar and had it for dinner with a large glass of milk. Lovely.

4. I will most likely be watching episodes of Person of Interest on the internet instead of on live television.

The past three weeks, I have wanted to watch this show. I have planned to watch this show. But by the time 9 pm rolls around, I find that I would rather go to bed than stay up to watch this show.

Between last night and tonight, I caught up on the last three episodes online (Illegally? How do I know if they are illegally posted? This may keep me up at night.)

I am evidently too old now to stay awake for Prime Time shows. I realize this is sad and lame on several levels. And most likely boring too. Sorry about that.

5. Finally, never underestimate the body of Christ.

I attended the funeral for the baby of some sweet friends today. They have known for several weeks that their baby had physical maladies that, without God's miraculous intervention, would make it impossible for their son to live outside his mother's womb. Today we celebrated little Elijah Korbin's short earthly life and his heavenly home-going.

Despite the parent's loss, they seemed to be surrounded by an almost tangible peace. Their pain is great, but they exhibited grace and hope. Dozens of friends supported them and their family today, grieving with them, trusting with them and celebrating with them.

Earlier this week, I dropped off to them a basket of goodies on behalf of a friend. I found myself desperate to take them something to "make it better." I realized that I cannot take away the pain, and I don't even have much to offer to ease the pain. But I can walk with them in the pain. I can pray for them. I can offer a hug or a word of encouragement. I can continue to ask how they are and lift them up in the weeks and months to come.

I think grief is a journey. One we are not meant to take alone. But with others.

That is what I saw today. And I am grateful.

Insomnia

Note to self: When you spend the day at home with a sick child and end up resting on the couch with him most of the morning and then taking a nap with him in the afternoon, you may have trouble falling asleep at bedtime.

Odd

It turned out that the piece for which I was interviewed was on the front page of our local paper last Friday. The reporter was quite articulate and did a nice job putting the article together. So a few friends have been commenting on the paper and teasing me, asking me to sign a copy and all.

Then today, I received an envelope addressed to me with no return address that contained the following:

* a neatly trimmed copy of the article

* a recipe for Taco Pie that appears to have been cut out of a magazine

* an evangelistic tract titled "What If" that asks "What if...your life were to end today? Are you 100% certain that you would go to Heaven?"

A friend who was here when I opened the mail noted that the postal stamp if from Indianapolis, Indiana and things mailed locally go through Kokomo.

So, I don't know what to make of this. Here are some possible theories I have so far:

A. Some who knows me wanted me to have a copy of the article and a new recipe to try. For lent their have pledged to hand out one evangelistic tract a day, so I was their person for that day. They work in Indy and mailed it from there.

B. Someone who does not know me wanted me to have a copy of the article. They read that I was a single mom, so they included a new recipe for me to try. They were unclear of my spiritual commitment since the article shared that I use to work as a children's pastor and now teach at a local school, so they included the tract.

C. Someone I may or may not know wanted me to have a copy of the article. They read that I am a single mom and concluded that I am obviously living in sin because I either have had children out of wedlock or I am divorced. Either way, the tract would take care of that issue, and they threw in the recipe to seem more kind.

D. What do YOU think?

Date

Two tickets to see Mark Lowry at the Honeywell Center: $32.00.

Fuel to drive to Wabash: $10.00.

Dinner from MCDonald's drive thru: $8.10.

Water and Cheetos (and orange fingers) at intermission:$4.00.

Having my nine year-old son turn to look at me and say "I love you, mom." five times during the concert: Priceless.

Today

A couple of highlights from my day...

After a busy day helping with our Black History Month Fair, I was exhausted this morning and did the very minimal in getting ready: I didn't take time for make up and I did not dry or straighten my hair, so it was curly/wavy.

Less than an hour into my day, I began to regret that decision when a fourth grade girl in my Success group said, "Your hair is crazy today Ms. Womack."

"I know." I replied. "Do you think you can help me?"

"Yes." she offered, but our science practice test for ISTEP prevented me from taking her up on her offer.

Fast forward 2 hours into my morning when I enter a first grade class and am greeted by a sweet boy who matter-of-factly observed, "Bad hair day, huh?"

"Yes," I agreed. "I am having a a bad hair day." I laughed with the classroom teacher and made a mental note to blow dry my hair from now on.

The day progressed uneventfully until after school when I unexpectedly I found myself the subject of an interview. Our local newspaper is doing a series of Marion residents, and I was happily answering questions about my life when the reporter mentioned getting a photograph. "Are you kidding?" I asked. "No way!" (Just kidding.)

I graciously posed for a photo with a small group of students and learned a bit more about humility today. I have to admit that I have my alarm set and plan to be much more prepared tomorrow...just in case.

Hope

One Sunday morning in January, our worship leader shared about how someone challenged her to pick a key word or phrase for the upcoming year. I listened as she described contemplating the idea and finally selecting a theme for 2012. As she talked one word kept running through my mind: hope.

The past few years have been long and difficult. God has provided many things: peace, joy, forgiveness, rest. But this year, I am claiming hope. Hope for the future. Hope for redemption. Hope in the One who has all things under His control and who loves me immensely.

"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken." Psalm 62:5-6

Message

Our family is blessed to sponsor two Compassion children: both from Ghana, but who each share the same birthday as our two eldest children. Elisha and Madelyn think having "birthday twins" is pretty great. We regularly receive letters from the kids, usually a few times a year corresponding (though a couple of months after due to translating and travel time) certain holidays (Easter, Christmas, and maybe summer vacation).

Today we received a letter from Gloria, our five year old. The letter is a form letter with her answers and thoughts written in by an adult teacher or social worker. Her "Message for my sponsor" made my heart jump and my throat tighten:

"Gloria prays to God that anything you have lost due to some circumstances should come back in abundance. She says, you will never lack anything in life because you are blessed."

Wow. Thanks, Gloria...and God!

Joy

Lest I give the impression that my days are hopeless and filled with tears, let me provide a glimpse of some of the joy in my life these days:

Josiah hugged me this morning and told me that he loved me all the way to the sky. Yesterday, he gave me three kisses and counted them as he went. He is is a big boy but is soft and still has squishy cheeks that I love to smootch.

Madelyn tries to wear skirts and dresses every day and is especially thrilled if they "twirl." She loves all things girly and coloring and crafts. I see more and more of my personality in her these days: she loves to plan and organize and tell people what to do (in a nice way, of course). She wakes up happy each morning, and often her first words of the day are, "Good morning, Mommy!"

Elisha and I are reading the Chronicles of Narnia. One of my favorite time each day is snuggling up with him on the couch to read the next chapter. He is so full of ideas and spends hours building things with his Legos. He is getting long and strong but will still let me hug and kiss him. And he still responds "I love you too" when I drop him off at school each morning.

In the early hours of the morning, each of the kids made their way in to my bedroom and crawled into bed with me. So by this morning, I had the two little ones next to me and Elisha stretched out at my feet. It was not the most restful way to sleep but it may be the sweetest.

I often consider how very blessed we are with a wonderful house, a reliable (and paid for) vehicle, plenty of food, more clothes than we need, a supportive family and friends. I am grateful for the dear friend who cares for my kids and for the teachers who invest in their young lives while I work.

I live in hope, surrounded by peace and full of joy. Thank You, Lord.

Blessings

Heard this song driving home tonight. It brought tears to my eyes, considering the reality of this truth in my own life. It's something to ponder...

Below are the lyrics, or you can listen to the song here.

We pray for blessings, we pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering

All the while You hear each spoken need
Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You're near?

What if trials of this life
Are Your mercies in disguise?

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough

And all the while You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears?
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You're near?

And what if trials of this life
Are Your mercies in disguise?

When friends betray us, when darkness seems to win
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home
It's not our home

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears?
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You're near?

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst
This world can't satisfy?

And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise?

Credits :
songwriters: story, laura mixon
© new spring publishing;new spring publishing

Order

I love order: the feeling that one gets when things have a place and when everything is in it's place. Ahhhh...it makes me feel good just thinking about it.

Last week I hosted a jewelry party for a friend which provided a very real and immediate incentive to get my house in order. And I don't just mean cleaning the bathrooms and making the beds. Think consolidating piles of opened (and unopened) mail, school papers, and receipts from the past month or two; sorting, folding and putting away the laundry that often covers my love seat; and paring down the 3 foot high tower of blankets that had overtaken its basket.

However, now that I can see my desk again (not to mention the coffee table and the kitchen counters), I want to maintain it. It is a struggle: clearing out the kitchen sink every night, putting all toys back on shelves and clothes back on hangers. But, it's been 4 days now (woo hoo!) and things still look great.

I am considering having someone over for dinner every week as an extra incentive in case my self-discipline wanes. Let me know if you're interested. ;)

Loneliness

One of the most difficult transitions for me as a single parent has been adapting to being alone. It's interesting that even with 3 kids around I can still feel lonely.

I blame it partly on my personality; I am an extreme extrovert. Being with people makes me feel secure. But it's not practical or possible to have people around all of the time. My friends have their own families and responsibilities.

I complained to a mentor about my loneliness, but instead of offering symapthy, she told me to invite people over...to make new friends. It was good advice, though not what I expected (or wanted) to hear. I have tried it. Inviting "strangers" and aquaintances over. It's intimidating. And vulnerable. And a bit risky. But it's worth it: I have new friends now that I did not have 6 months ago, which is an amazing blessing.

I have also been challenged to practice solitude, to discipline myself to not have to be with people. Rarely, this happens by my choice; more often I call and text and try to find someone to hang out with and it turns out everyone is busy. So, by default, I spend time alone. I wish I could say that I alwyas make the most of this time: reading scripture, praying, journaling. Sometimes, I try to clean or organize or get something accomplished. Sometimes I seek out "community" on Facebook. And sometimes I just watch movies or go to bed.

Regardless of how I feel, I know that I am truly never alone. I wrote the following poem in college to submit to our campus journal. It describes the paradox I often feel and the truth I know.

Alone.

Not really,

Just by myself.

You are here

So there are two:

Together,

Alone.

Escape

Josiah's transition to a pacifier-free life has not come easily. His former bedtime of 7 or 7:30 has morphed into a 7:30 put-him-into-bed-time but a 9:30 finally-give-up-and-go-to-sleep-time. So, I often put him in bed with me, grateful for an excuse to go to bed early myself. We snuggle together, his cold feet sandwiched between my warm legs, and drift off together for an extra-long, worry-free night.

I burrow under the covers, pulling the blankets over my head, but forming a tiny tunnel into the outside world...right by my nose so I can still breathe easily. I love being here: warm, soft, safe. It's my escape of choice these days. No more crying. Just sleep. Disconnected from the thoughts and regrets and "what ifs."

I wonder how long the relief will last. How long until my responsibilities and longing for reality overtake the refuge of sleep. Until that time, I continue, knowing that I cannot to escape from the love of One who knows the pain and offers not just sleep but rest.

Reality

I'm realizing that living in reality can be painful: pain, loss, disappointment, grief. It's a lot to take at times. And then I read about someone who is experiencing (seemingly) more loss than me, and I gain a new perspective. Or maybe it's more of a kindredness, knowing that others are navigating similar emotions.

The great writer C.S. Lewis proposed a relationship between our ability to feel pain and joy. From my experience, I believe he is right. I have loved deeply, and, perhaps because of that, have felt deep loss. But even through the pain God has still brought moments of joy. A different joy, perhaps, than the innocent joy "before loss." One that has known the sustaining grace and faithfulness of God.

For this I am so very thankful.

Better Late Than Never

I believe this year I am less like this poem than ever before.

But it is still good to contemplate.

“The Month Before Christmas”
by Jaena Womack

‘Twas the month before Christmas and all through the town,
Every person was busy – no joy to be found.

With their calendars full and great plans made with care,
They knew that the holidays soon would be there.

I’m all ready to go, with my red Santa’s cap
Though I’d rather hole up for a long winter’s nap!

The family is coming for turkey and pie;
There is work to be done; there are groceries to buy:

Cranberries, plum pudding, mincemeat and hams,
Flour, sugar, eggnog, marshmallows, and yams,

Cashews and pretzels and chocolate for dipping,
And full-caffeine hazelnut coffee for sipping,

I can’t forget ice cream -- six quarts, Neopolitan --
Good grief! I may need a sleigh just to haul it in!

Yes, it’s happened again: preparations gone wild,
And I’m half-Martha Stewart half-Julia Child.

Yet there’s still more to do! Let me show you my list –
I have shopping and wrapping and my kids insist

That we spend one whole day finding just the right tree,
Then we finally select one at least nine foot three

Which we drag to our house through the ice and the sleet…
(Never mind that our ceiling is only eight feet.)

Now it’s off to the mall for a fourteen-hour sale
With holiday coupons received in the mail.

With such bargains around…well, it isn’t too hard
To max out my VISA and Discover card.

So I head for our home with my presents in tow
And if this year is much like the past years, I know

As I pull in the driveway and walk through the door,
I’ll be greeted by sounds of my husband’s loud snore.

My children have fallen asleep on their beds
With clothes still on bodies and hats still on heads.

I grab the remote and turn off the TV,
Collapse on the couch, almost too tired to see…

I’ve run myself ragged with plans so sublime
Now I ask, “What’s the point? Is it all worth my time?”

In the silence I treasure a brief interlude;
My thoughts become clear, and I humbly conclude

That it’s not in the presents wrapped under the tree,
It’s not in the friends or the family you see,

Of course it’s not Rudolph or old Santa Claus,
Or donating money to some worthy cause.

No, it all traces back to the night long ago…
To the mother and child and the story we know

But we often forget as we bustle around,
The true meaning of Christmas can only be found

In the birth of a baby – the long-promised king
Who caused shepherds to wonder and angels to sing.

That’s why we celebrate, though some don’t know,
Christmas is Jesus’ birthday, and so…

What I whisper aloud as I turn out the light
Is not, “Merry Christmas, to all a good night.”

Rather “Glory to God in the highest” and then
“Peace on the earth and good will to all men.”

Crib for Sale

Here are random parts of the crib from random pictures

because my random brain did not think to take a photo

before taking the crib down. Use your imagination. :D

Pics for Keetha

Elisha and his Solar System Puzzle

Some of Elisha's Lego creations

Celebrating Josiah's second birthday - April 2010

Elisha earned some money and I mentioned tithing to him. He was not on board at first and stated that he did not intend to give God any of his money. He soon reconsidered and agreed to give ten percent, so we put it in this envelope which he appropriately labeled "God."