tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80733888743708434092024-03-13T03:33:23.138-04:00Charlie Brown's TeacherA Homeschool Mom rambles about life lessons. marriage, parenting, and even curriculum...but believes you won't want to read it, unless if's funny.Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.comBlogger108125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-28463468758097414852018-03-15T09:39:00.000-04:002018-03-15T11:27:00.925-04:00Not Such A Bad Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9OS9-E1cyuskipf-hvRzsKSlcfG-Ys1e3XhRcpBtdyV6BTIYvcqFG2X19wxzFp8ha0JMsp3R_L99oe9qkRnX1DKlLeso4xm06uKSgjvWVCi_oQ_y5cjWOEUVmicZNOpaZ0HkiTnJIO5j0/s1600/waterInthebasement.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="216" data-original-width="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9OS9-E1cyuskipf-hvRzsKSlcfG-Ys1e3XhRcpBtdyV6BTIYvcqFG2X19wxzFp8ha0JMsp3R_L99oe9qkRnX1DKlLeso4xm06uKSgjvWVCi_oQ_y5cjWOEUVmicZNOpaZ0HkiTnJIO5j0/s1600/waterInthebasement.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
It was a rough weekend. The Indiana State Robotics Tournament was held in Indianapolis, and my boys went in feeling like they had something to prove. They had won a lot of tournaments, and their skills score was the highest in the world; so they had bit of a target on their backs.<br />
During the season, my boys learned that victory has its downside. All year long, tournaments required them to compete against kids on their own team. Winning meant that friends lost. When this happened repeatedly, teammates didn't always feel like celebrating with them. (This makes COMPLETE sense. It's human nature, but it was hard on them at times.) When they broke the world record, they started getting attention worldwide. They received some encouragement at first; but things soon turned ugly. The robotics community, those whom they will compete against at Vex Worlds, started pointing out and focusing on their weaknesses. My boys planned to use the State Tournament to help prove that the criticism was undeserved.<br />
It didn't work out like they hoped. Gears on their robot motors started shattering, and they had no idea why. They spent the day repairing the robot, competing, and then repairing the robot again. It was hard to watch. Family members had driven hours to support them, and all hearts were hurting for these kids whose shoulders were sagging. Clay's 89-year-old dad, Grandpa Rassi, was taking it all in and soon leaned over to me to say, "Well, sometimes you have good days, and some days there's water in the basement."<br />
<br />
I think this is my new life motto.<br />
With one quick statement, I had a new perspective. You see, we had recently lived through the hard work and chaos of a flooded, finished basement. Our basement had been the robotics team hangout. It had a game field in it and allowed the different students to work on robots outside of regular school hours. Twenty years of dry basement was no match for this year's thaw combined with days of rain. Two weeks before the State tournament, our basement had water in it for 3 days. We pumped it out, and more kept coming in. The carpet and the drywall were destroyed, but we were able to save all the "stuff".<br />
Our boys worked alongside us. They witnessed the destruction. They saw us praise God during the hard. It was an unforgettable life experience. Since then, we have been living in crazy. All things that were in the basement are now in our living room, our bedrooms, and our foyer. We spend every spare moment cleaning and rebuilding as we recover the basement. Our lives were full before: now they are exhausting. The state tournament struggle was just "one more thing" on a long list of things that haven't gone our way lately...but with one simple statement, Grandpa gave us an alternative viewpoint. Yes, the day was hard, but the boys learned ways that they need to improve their robot. They learned about holding their heads high despite what other people may think, and they learned about perseverance. We can focus on the good from the day and keep remembering that any day when there ISN'T water in the basement may not be such a bad day after all.Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-62391854339911333622018-02-12T11:25:00.000-05:002018-02-12T11:25:18.775-05:00Missing My Kids AlreadyLately, my heart keeps aching when I look at Micah. He's seventeen, a junior, and absolutely awesome. In 18 months, he will head off to college, and I am suddenly seeing the whole world through a different lens. I am soaking in every interaction with him. I admire him from afar. How can I possibly go without seeing this favorite person of mine EVERY. SINGLE. DAY?<br />
<br />
Then it hit me.<br />
God feels this way about me.<br />
<br />
He really adores us. He made us for His pleasure. He appreciates each of our unique gifts and purposes in this world. He is excited to watch us live them out...even when we fail. We are His children. He loves to watch us persevere. He gives us strength to endure. He LIKES us and yearns for relationship with us.<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><a href="https://www.kingjamesbibleonline.org/Revelation-4-11/" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none;" title="Revelation 4:11">Revelation 4:11</a></strong><span style="background-color: white;"> - Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power: for thou hast created all things, and FOR THY PLEASURE they are and were created. (KJV)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We bless God when we choose to b</span>e in His presence, to talk to Him, to listen for what He has to say to us.<br />
<span style="color: red;">To clarify: I'm not talking about hours on the couch up to our elbows in study and prayer. This is needed, but we were meant for lighter (and even light-hearted) interactions too. You know, the ones that don't require "work". The ones that can happen all day long.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;">"I see what you did there, God."</span><br />
<span style="color: red;">"Jesus, you can still use that stupid thing I said to get glory for yourself, right? Do I need to apologize? What do I need to learn?"</span><br />
<span style="color: red;">"Dang, Holy Spirit! You rock."</span><br />
<br />
When Clay and I were trying to heal, I needed eye-contact and conversation. Clay knew this, so he would sit on the couch, look at me, and say, "What do you want to talk about?"<br />
This didn't go well.<br />
It became work.<br />
We would stare at each other (awkward, not intimate) or avoid eye-contact, or we would end up in an argument. We did much better if we played a game, took a walk, or did some other activity which allowed us to look at each other while accomplishing something OTHER than just talking. When the pressure was off, conversation could just FLOW OUT OF US.<br />
<br />
Too often, we are like that with God. We need to quit pressuring ourselves about what we are "supposed to be accomplishing" and simply choose to look at Him, be available to Him. The rest can take care of itself. If we seek Him, we will find Him. As intimacy grows, we'll have cravings to KNOW Him by reading His word. It doesn't have to be work.<br />
<br />
I think God longs for us when we don't spend time with him each day, but not in a way where he NEEDS us...just in a way where he ENJOYS us. We don't need to feel shame or avoid God if we neglect our time with Him, we just need to correct that issue and connect. There are people in your life that you haven't talked to for YEARS and you still feel free to call them up because your conversation will pick right back up where you left off. Jesus is one of those people.<br />
Sure, He could always admire us from a distance; but how much more joy does it bring a parent to have meaningful interaction and friendship with their child? It's why we had them! The same goes for God. It's why He made you. Bless Him by acknowledging His love for you and worship Him for it. Just look at Him, you'll see it...and what a blessing you will receive right back!<br />
He loves you IMMEASURABLY more than ANYONE has ever loved you.<br />
Grasping even a portion of that truth is life changing.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Any doubt about the joy that a child's interaction can bring to a parent? <br />
Just look at Clay's face. I imagine God looking at us that way.</td></tr>
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<br />Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-54230924089769711232018-01-25T11:11:00.002-05:002018-01-31T08:31:04.728-05:00When Evan Heard From God<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A long time ago (when I used to consider myself a blogger) I wrote about one goose-bumpy, <a href="http://charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2012/06/goose-bumps.html" target="_blank">Jehovah Shammah (God is there)</a> moment that happened when our boys were tiny. *click the link to read it* Our family has many of these moments, and I love to share them. The world knows that God is big...but our testimonies are often how others learn to understand how much He cares about little ol' us.<br />
<br />
Today's Jehovah Shammah moment once again involves my son, Evan. He is fifteen now, and I think he could use this reminder (and a warm, fuzzy feeling) today.<br />
<br />
Years ago, I sent the boys to their rooms to spend time "alone with God". I wanted to encourage them to talk to God and set aside special time in their days to meditate on His word and His works.<br />
Evan came out of his room and announced, "God told me to take my Bible when we run our errands today. He wants me to read it to people in the world."<br />
<br />
Evan was an emotional little boy and prone to telling "stories". My eyebrow raised at this proclamation of hearing God's voice, so I told him that he could take his Bible - but he should probably only read it to someone if they ASKED him to read it to them. He picked out a special passage and was ready for the occasion.<br />
<br />
That precious little blonde-haired angel carried his Bible to the bank, through Aldi, and through almost all the aisles in Walmart until he looked at me, discouraged.<br />
"Mom, NOBODY has asked me to read my Bible to them."<br />
I didn't want his desire to go unanswered, but I also knew if God had REALLY told him to bring his Bible, that he would get a chance to read it. So I asked him if he had prayed for God to bring the right person to him, someone who really needed to hear. Right there, in aisle five, my sweet first-grader prayed. His tiny, high voice humbly asked God for help.<br />
<br />
We were just about done shopping, so it wasn't long before we headed to the cash register. When it was our turn to check out, the cashier looked up and noticed Evan...<br />
Cashier: "Whatcha got there?"<br />
Evan: *beaming* "My Bible. Would you like me to read you something?"<br />
Cashier: *glances my way* "Why sure."<br />
<br />
In a clear voice, he read about the fruit of the Spirit from Galatians 5...and the cashier's eyes filled with tears.<br />
<br />
Cashier: "Thank you. I really needed to hear those words today. That means a lot."<br />
Evan: "You're welcome! I KNEW someone needed me to read my Bible!"<br />
Cashier: "Well, thanks so much for bringing it."<br />
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />
Jehovah Shammah. God answers the prayers of children...his children.<br />
(That means you too.)<br />
When we seek, we find.<br />
Lord, help us to look at you today, to see your glory and give you praise, to ask for help, and to see the opportunities you want to provide. We could all use some extra warm-fuzzy moments that focus on you.<br />
Amen.<br />
<br />
BeckyBecky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-4648081272518425562018-01-18T07:49:00.002-05:002018-01-18T09:56:44.224-05:00Rebuilding Our Shattered MarriageMy marriage was a solid, beautiful, glass vase that wasn't strong enough to survive hitting a concrete floor. (Imagine that.)<br />
I often treated my husband, Clay, as if he had picked up the vase and thrown it at the ground; but in reality, we gradually nudged that vase closer and closer to the edge of the counter until one day when we were in the throws of making excuses for our poor behavior, we threw our hands out and our marriage sailed through the air and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces on the hard surface below.<br />
<br />
It has been a long process to pick up all the pieces and glue them back together. It has taken years of reaching into the brokenness. Each time we put out our hand to pick up a sliver, we knew that we would most likely get wounded. We were often tentative. Shards dug deep. We ended up bloody. It hurt, and yet we kept reaching toward wholeness. We could see something beautiful forming. The Holy Spirit was the glue holding us together. We trusted that the sacrifice was going to be worth it.<br />
<br />
A few months ago, this analogy of the vase came to me. Vividly.<br />
The truth of it resonated deep within me. It was a gift from God. This mental picture changed me and exponentially sped up our healing process.<br />
After this revelation, each time I wanted to be mad at Clay, each time I wanted to be a martyr because I hurt so badly, I began to stop and TRULY look at him. I revisited the vase and saw Clay's bloody hands. I saw him still reaching into the broken glass at great cost to himself. I saw love...even though I may not have FELT it. Clay was still choosing US, and God's supernatural grace began filling our home.<br />
<br />
We wanted to like each other again, but had no idea how to get there. Walls were up. We could not find victory on our own. We started praying that God's Holy Spirit would fill us, and HIS will would be done. In each of us. Through our marriage. For HIS glory.<br />
Once we truly BELIEVED that prayer, God was able to move.<br />
<br />
It's only been a few months, but I wanted to share: by the grace of God, our marriage has been healed. Life is still challenging. We are still human. Life is still messy, but we are ONE.<br />
Team players. Friends. Lovers.<br />
We have been undone. We were brought to our knees, and I am here praising God for all of the hard because we learned so very much. For this, I am truly thankful.<br />
<br />
Dear brother or sister, know that prayer is our superpower. It's YOUR superpower.<br />
When we pray that God gets glory through our lives, that HIS will (not our will) is done, our lives change. God is so immensely faithful.<br />
And THEN, we get to tell others about the journey.<br />
Great is the Lord and worthy of praise.<br />
-Becky<br />
<br />
P.S. I just had Clay read this and he said, "If you didn't know our story, you'd think I had an affair." I want to clarify that he did NOT indeed have an affair. <a href="http://charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-truths-about-marriage.html" target="_blank">Click here to read the story of our decline.</a> On that note, know that God can even heal the type of shattering that comes from that kind of unfaithfulness - if we seek His face.<br />
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<br />Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-51013748674664611032015-10-29T21:34:00.003-04:002018-01-18T09:35:23.803-05:00The Truth(s) About Marriage<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gDgSHlkYi2q03IfKoqtlZIrUmtqPSeB9sp3eIs39o35K3RfbuzXDpRv8Xu7xHHuBbrnVTJHrDc-jxwyIjCwFUOMC9GK-TUhP5mk62eYV85Qu2YoPdaI0L-D3g0XfNhnCp3JY2-IRLJqJ/s1600/hatmaker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gDgSHlkYi2q03IfKoqtlZIrUmtqPSeB9sp3eIs39o35K3RfbuzXDpRv8Xu7xHHuBbrnVTJHrDc-jxwyIjCwFUOMC9GK-TUhP5mk62eYV85Qu2YoPdaI0L-D3g0XfNhnCp3JY2-IRLJqJ/s320/hatmaker.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">From her book, </span><a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/home.htm" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">For the Love</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Amen.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In my rant about persevering through the hard of marriage *see post <a href="http://charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2015/10/im-not-sure-i-want-to-be-married-anymore.html" target="_blank">"I'm Not Sure I Want To Be Married Anymore"</a>* I shared</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> that Clay and I have had some sucktastic years. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Long story short: all of our marriage problems were Clay's fault. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(Ha! I couldn't even type that with a
straight face.) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">No matter how much I told myself this fallacy,
it wasn't true; but I did learn a few truths along the way...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Truth #1: Marriage can be a crutch.</b> </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For the first ten years, Clay and I sailed along smoothly. Our "autopilot" had a lot of Biblically-based tendencies. <a href="http://charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2012/05/10-things-my-mama-said-about-marriage.html" target="_blank">Our parents had taught us some healthy habits.</a> We were happy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Even though our marital harmony managed to hang on many years after the honeymoon, something was
missing. I desired a spirit-filled, God-centered life, and I knew that God was second (or maybe even fourth?) on my list of loves. Christianity is a calling to more, so I prayed that God would help me to love HIM even more than I loved my husband.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(Did you just wince when you read that?
Did you yell at the screen, "You idiot! WHY would you pray for something
like that?!!")<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">How was I supposed to know that God would
ask me to give Him my marriage? I thought he already HAD my marriage. (You know, because of all the happiness.) </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">How was I
supposed to know that I had SO MUCH in common with the rich young religious man
in Matthew 19? He was too tied to his possessions to give them up when Jesus
asked; and like him, I thought I was doing everything RIGHT, I had no idea that I
would hold on to Clay with a vice grip when God asked me to place our marriage in
His hands. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Marriage can become a crutch for unhappy couples too. They keep leaning on their marriage expecting it to make life better, or they blame their marriage for their emptiness. Scripture is full of verses that say only GOD satisfies. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(spoiler alert: Your spouse is NOT God.)</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Truth #2: Marriages fall apart when we don't trust God.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">God heard my prayer, and Clay started a new job which had him traveling A LOT. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I became ticked A LOT.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">GOD GAVE HIM THIS JOB. We sat in
our living room with tears in our eyes and goosebumps on our arms because it
was so clear that God provided this position. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">WHAT THE HECK???</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was a perfect situation for spiritual
growth. I am confident that Clay and I could have depended on God, prayed diligently for each other, made healthy choices about our time together, created healthy boundaries for his business, edified and built each other up, and remained a strong team. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Um, those are not the choices that we made. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When God allows His children to walk through the fire, they can CHOOSE to trust Him with each moment...or they can leave His protection
and get burned. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Can I just say, "Ouch."?</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Truth #3: We are called to surrender. (That means quit fighting.)</b></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few years in, I was tired of being
gracious. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wanted my old marriage back. </span>I was mad at God. </div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Clay was no longer
funny. (Please acknowledge this as HUGE. Clay being funny and reminding me to
breathe has always been a vital part of our marriage.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Eventually, I couldn't fight (or cry)
anymore. I finally decided to accept the life I had rather than keep fighting
for the marriage I CRAVED. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had a clear vision of holding up the white
flag of surrender. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In war, no side will surrender unless they
reach the point where the fight seems more painful than death, or
enslavement, or imprisonment. I had reached that point. I was bloodied and
battered from the battle, and I would accept this new marriage - as long as I
didn't have to fight anymore. I was going to trust God. I was going to depend
on Him. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Soon after my surrender to God, Clay became funny again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I honestly wonder if God hardened Clay's
heart for a while until I waved my white flag. I had to CHOOSE to love God more. To die to myself. To love Clay
because he has innate value. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the past, I had loved Clay because he satisfied my needs, but we are called to love our spouses even
when they don't. <o:p></o:p>I needed to love Clay out of obedience to God...and not because he made me "happy".</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wish I would have fought the spiritual battle from the start - but I chose to fight Clay instead. God allowed me to make that
choice. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you, Lord, for letting me learn that lesson. It brought me
closer to You. You still used my poor decision for good and your glory. I definitely learned to love you more than Clay. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Life improved for a while. Clay and I both made healthier choices for a couple of years. We got a reprieve from
pain, enough to recover for round two. There was so much more to learn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Truth #4: We twist scripture to support our selfish attitudes. </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Did you know it is possible to become so
close to God that you don't even CARE about your spouse? Oh wait, I was sinning when I did that...<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few years ago, Clay once again became cocooned in an isolated work/stress bubble. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I didn't want to fight this time. I knew I needed to turn to God. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I decided that God was ALL I needed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then, I twisted this spiritual decision into a convenient little package of lies.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I came to expect nothing good from Clay. (So he couldn't let me down.) <br />My running commentary became, "He won't. You are alone in this. You don't need Clay. You have God. God is enough."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I read scripture about marriage and husbands. I decided what our life was SUPPOSED to look like, and judged Clay when our marriage didn't match the picture in my head. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">CLAY was supposed to lead. HE was making unhealthy choices. HE needed to turn to Jesus. (All those sentences were true. There's the rub.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Depending on God and searching His Word are healthy. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Using that dependence as an excuse to harden my heart toward my spouse? Twisting scripture to judge him? Neglecting my responsibility to love and edify him? <br />The work of the enemy. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">All scripture and interaction with God should be applied to OURSELVES first. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">His word is used as a weapon against THE ENEMY. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(Spoiler alert: Your spouse is NOT the enemy.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was making unhealthy choices and needed to turn to Jesus too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Truth #5: GOD SAVES SCREWED UP MARRIAGES. </span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've seen it with my own eyes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">If both spouses turn to God, victory is guaranteed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">If only one spouse looks to God, it gets harder...but still very possible.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On many occasions I have seen men fall humbly to their knees and beg God to heal their marriages. Even when their wives had cheated on them, or if their wives had hard hearts toward them, I witnessed God prevail. It took repentance. It took obedience. It took leadership. It took consistency.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We woman are made for relationship. It is hard for us to resist a godly man...because he loves unselfishly. He considers us. He provides for our needs. He points us to God. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Scripture also tells us that a man can be won over by the behavior of his wife (1 Peter 3:1). My own father preaches the validity of this scripture when he speaks of my mother's faith during THEIR harder years. Her life was a testimony showing him that God was worth trusting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Clay and I have been slowly healing. We have (finally) been laughing again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Prayer has been the biggest catalyst for this health.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Truth #6 God wants us to pray together (Matthew 18:20)</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One morning when the alarm went off, in the dark quiet, I listened to God's leading rather than judging Clay for NOT leading. I held my husband's hand and started praying out loud.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(Let's be honest, I'm the verbal, passionate gusher in the family. If I want more out-loud processing about spiritual things in our marriage, it is probably MY job to initiate it. In our marriage oneness, Clay's half is passionate about music and generosity and laughter...my side has most of the words.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I prayed for this man I love. I prayed for his job. I repented. I begged for wisdom and unity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The next day, I prayed again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">By the third day, Clay joined in the prayer after I finished.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After a week or so, Clay even began initiating some of our prayer sessions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One day, I watched him pray over our youngest son in a moment of frustration.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We were experiencing God's power. Home was becoming a safe place. Through prayer, we saw that we had common goals. We acknowledged that we were still a team...of THREE.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Truth #7 The Bible has instructions for healing a marriage.</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">God's word is alive and active. Sharper than a double edged sword. (Hebrews 4:12)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">God's word WILL cut down the enemy. God's word will prune away all the ugly in us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It will also change the way you look at your spouse. God's perspective changes things.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After praying, Clay and I were primed to listen for God (and to God).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I can't really tell you all the lessons Clay started learning. (I'm the gusher, remember?)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But I saw him on his Bible App in the mornings, and I noticed his schedule choices improve, and his BEHAVIOR softened. When we did talk, he would interact more and clam up less...and we would laugh.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As for me, I asked God to put a guard over my mouth. (Psalm 141:3)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I started TRYING not to correct, or rebuke Clay (or our boys). Instead, I put my energy into edification. (1 Thessolonians 5:11, Romans 14)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's easy for me to trust that God will get me through big, hard situations. He has repeatedly proven himself faithful to solve those problems. Trusting Him to do a mighty work in daily issues while I hold my tongue, however, is not so easy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(It feels downright IMPOSSIBLE some days.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I haven't really given God much opportunity to prove himself faithful in that area.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">We are climbing out of the hard; but </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Clay is still stressed at work, and </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I still like to tell people what is wrong with them. (You read my </span><a href="http://charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2015/10/im-not-sure-i-want-to-be-married-anymore.html" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">last post</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, right?) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So we cling to the truth: God is faithful. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(Really. He is.)</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-family: inherit; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-family: inherit; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">"He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." </span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-family: inherit; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Philipians 1:6</span></div>
Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-18400149672661941442015-10-23T09:32:00.001-04:002015-10-31T14:44:17.554-04:00I'm Not Sure I Want To Be Married Anymore<div>
Clay and I had a blissful marriage for the first ten or twelve years. BLISS, I tell you.<br />
We used to go on about how lucky we were. We actually had friends and family complain about how "in love" we were. (Eye-rolling was definitely involved.)<br />
Even as late as 2012, <a href="http://charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2012/06/qualifier.html" target="_blank">I wrote a blog having to clarify to all of you that Clay was not, indeed, Superman</a>. I knew I gushed about him a lot. I was consistently trying to accentuate the positive.<br />
<br />
Long story short: things declined.<br />
It took a while to get to the point where grace just quit winning, but we got there.<br />
In the past few years, our home has been full of icy silences and loads of tension. We couldn't talk about anything of substance without arguing. The same stubbornness which kept us fighting, also kept us talking to each other on a surface level and attempting to be "happily married". We knew God wanted more for us than what we were experiencing, but we lived angry at each other or pretending not to be.<br />
So when our friend uttered, "I'm not even sure I want to be married anymore," he might have expected a sympathetic response. We understood the distance he was experiencing in his marriage. We were a safe place for this kind of confession.<br />
Then my husband of over 17 years, looked our friend in the eyes and replied with love and conviction, "Does it really MATTER what you want?"<br />
<br />
Rock on, Clay.<br />
<br />
Promises have been made. Children are involved. Adulthood has arrived. Maturity is required. Stomping our feet and wanting our way is not going to improve the situation or benefit the greater good. And yet...that is exactly what our whole culture does.<br />
<br />
How has it become acceptable in our world to simply quit being family?<br />
We don't get to say, "I don't want to be a parent anymore. My kids don't make me as happy as I thought they would."<br />
(Well, we may say it...but anyone who actually makes that parenting choice is chalked up as selfish, heartless, scum of the earth - to put it nicely.)<br />
<br />
We constantly deal with situations that are not ideal or easy, but we figure out how to maneuver within them because we HAVE NO CHOICE. We can't say, "My car is wrecked, but I still owe money on it. I'm just going to quit paying the loan because I am no longer experiencing the happiness I expected."<br />
Again, we COULD take that path, but we would hide that information from society so they don't easily find out about the resulting debt-collectors and see us for the self-centered, childish sucktons that we are. (I just made that word up. Feel free to use it. Satan wants us all to be sucktons.)<br />
<br />
So we won't/can't walk away from some of our responsibilities; but, "I'm not happy. I don't want to be married anymore," has become perfectly acceptable in our culture...and in our churches.<br />
It's like people forget that they made a COVENANT WITH GOD.<br />
<br />
Christian brothers and sisters, how did we become spoiled pansies with such hypocritical, empty faith? What happened to good character? How have we made God so small, so theoretical, so NOT REAL? How have we chosen to ignore the benefits that come from perseverance, endurance...and TRUST. COME ON, PEOPLE!<br />
Most of us have learned how to walk, talk, or ride a bike. We have seen the benefits of diligently working to accomplish a hard task. Getting back up after falling down has brought us victory in areas of our lives. Blessings can come!<br />
God promised that He can use all things for the good of those who love him.<br />
He WILL bring glory to himself if we obey, believe, and follow!<br />
<br />
<b>We don't expect our kids to fulfill us.</b> We get hurt by them (all.the.time), yet still love them. They say jerky things, and we give them grace. We even take some of the blame for their crappy attitudes or make excuses for them.<br />
"That apple doesn't fall far from the tree."<br />
"He probably just needs a nap."<br />
(I bet it would make a HUGE difference if I would just let Clay take a nap.)<br />
<br />
<b>We don't expect our friends to fulfill us.</b> They have LIVES OF THEIR OWN. They are messes (just like us) that need our love and support. They can't be dealing with OUR drama all the time. (Or if they do, they may need to grab a quick nap before making the phone call to interact with our baggage.) Friendship provides the luxury of space. We only see them in small spurts, so they don't get as many chances to tick us off.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>So, why do we expect our spouse to fulfill us?</b> Why do we expect perfection, right attitudes, and every moment to be like movie highlights? How can our spouse POSSIBLY have the capability to ignore their own perspective and see things from our point of view when they are made so very differently than we were? We can't do that for them, afterall. Where were we supposed to learn this skill in the first place? As children? (I know my children are not learning that skill.)<br />
We are so warped to expect that kind of miraculous "oneness". It takes DIFFERENT pieces of a puzzle to make a beautiful picture. A pile of the same pieces just stays a pile.<br />
The Bible warns us that those who marry will have troubles in this life. (1 Corinthians 7:28)<br />
We need to quit being shocked by the trouble and embrace the value in it.<br />
<br />
The Holy Spirit's love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control are being missed in this world. (Galatians 5:22-23) We don't experience them, because we don't experience HIM.<br />
Instead, we expect all that wonderful fruit to be provided by our spouse.<br />
(Lucky human. Such a huge, IMPOSSIBLE task.)</div>
<div>
I am writing this blog to stay, "Stop it already!"<br />
<br />
I told you I should not be trusted to write blogs and post them without days of contemplation.<br />
You are getting a whole lot of REAL.<br />
I have spent the last two years yelling at myself every time I consider my own momentary happiness rather than keep my eyes focused on the big picture. Now I have decided to yell at you too. I have learned so much by persevering, and we both know that I don't learn well alone.<br />
<br />
Clay and I are on a fabulous (if not a bit rocky) path back to being a team. Back to passion.<br />
Back to the sickly, electric, grace-filled love that we lost. We have been fighting like crazy in efforts to get back to that place. (No, fighting hasn't really helped in the efforts; but perseverance in faith IS.)<br />
We both want to be healthy. We both WANT to be happy again. We finally asked GOD to show us how...and quit trying to fix it on our own.<br />
<br />
My next blog will be much more positive. I promise.<br />
I'll let you know about the 5-7 year journey we have been on, how we ended up living in the HARD, the lessons we learned (and are still learning) while walking through it, and the solutions God keeps providing.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhp7ocotb3vFbbdvNd_J6Wz1K9ByGX7qJWs14oFsgI3RdrZiStEmi3gH4mjSKIA_SyuzaTEfV3YXi0jnUbWHhq1xe2AkcYbleABj4lYMVSdpi5aPkq-TBw4aUxvQYRvEpbTgdnygJRfGD/s1600/11731692_10205545395373112_8327025280272064145_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhp7ocotb3vFbbdvNd_J6Wz1K9ByGX7qJWs14oFsgI3RdrZiStEmi3gH4mjSKIA_SyuzaTEfV3YXi0jnUbWHhq1xe2AkcYbleABj4lYMVSdpi5aPkq-TBw4aUxvQYRvEpbTgdnygJRfGD/s320/11731692_10205545395373112_8327025280272064145_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even when life is hard. God is faithful. (And sunglasses are useful.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*the small print: This post is not saying you must stay in an adulterous marriage. It is not saying that you should stay in an abusive marriage. It is saying that life is bigger than your happiness...and that doing hard things brings great reward. So if you do not have Biblical grounds to leave...suck it up. Make sure that God is the lamp unto your feet in each and every path you choose.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span>
(The next post has been written: <a href="http://www.charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-truths-about-marriage.html" target="_blank">The Truth(s) About Marriage</a>)</div>
Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-47609034953648425982015-09-22T08:45:00.002-04:002015-10-23T10:56:20.967-04:00The Fatal Flaw"That has been our biggest mistake as parents," Clay exclaimed.<br />
"Yep, we should never have let them know that they are hilarious," I replied.<br />
<br />
We had just been discussing "the chicken nugget incident".<br />
Evan was about two years old. Still old enough to know better.<br />
He was in his little car seat on a four hour trip to Grandma and Grandpa's house.<br />
We had stopped to grab some fast food.<br />
Clay was driving, and I was actually looking at him when it happened. We were having a conversation when a chicken nugget suddenly bounced off the side of Clay's head.<br />
<br />
We turned around to see our Evan, straight-faced and serious as can be, announcing to the car, "I'm done."<br />
It hit our funny bones so hard that we couldn't stop laughing to discipline the child.<br />
"I should have pulled the car over right then and there to punish him...but we made that fatal flaw."<br />
Yep. Clay has a point, it is a fatal flaw in many ways. They learned about levity in the face of frustration at a very young age; but if he had been "properly punished", the memory might have been tainted. I'm not sure that "good parenting" is worth losing that piece of our family lore.<br />
<br />
That fatal flaw has been our undoing.<br />
Our boys push when the tension rises. They keep talking, pressing buttons, making clever comments...hoping to pick the right remark that will lighten their consequences, change our perspective, or simply remind us that they are so very lovable.<br />
<br />
I don't blame them. It tends to work.<br />
What is a fatal flaw for a parent, is quite the "gift" for a child.<br />
(It also tends to give me some funny facebook statuses.)<br />
<br />
We are praying that they learn to read their audience (and pay attention to the veins popping out of the authority figure's neck)...maybe that will keep them from someday getting fired for insubordination.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0D4EtqP7svEn6lMU07GxW01Q3Hkzq4E1xbTFebXUJe27D9R28asbL4UnYiGj9QKgJYroPndvcTHz3Sf57KVZOfDN562D9wZk3uncXjcWkBU_gs4Wo5oLtWewW6ubjCn6YL-1z4cMl7gP2/s1600/2004time_out.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0D4EtqP7svEn6lMU07GxW01Q3Hkzq4E1xbTFebXUJe27D9R28asbL4UnYiGj9QKgJYroPndvcTHz3Sf57KVZOfDN562D9wZk3uncXjcWkBU_gs4Wo5oLtWewW6ubjCn6YL-1z4cMl7gP2/s320/2004time_out.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture was taken when our boys did NOT manage to make us laugh.<br />
They got sent to the corner for "time out".<br />
This mama still got her "perspective/mood lightening" moment when they chose to go to the SAME corner. <br />
Dang, I love those boys. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-87731764464234237602015-09-09T08:30:00.003-04:002015-10-23T10:57:12.543-04:00Before Kids<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lzq_Cos-vLoV96ESnqdVjUEvWvRyUsAbxnfU78HoureuztRsi1RW50rOjBAw6Rd3hVxQDaIL20zmSu1Tz8nrsQ4i-vIjh69tMOOR7B05JXIjBdazkIQ67EtI5RGpqg0_7pVproPl6DxA/s1600/us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lzq_Cos-vLoV96ESnqdVjUEvWvRyUsAbxnfU78HoureuztRsi1RW50rOjBAw6Rd3hVxQDaIL20zmSu1Tz8nrsQ4i-vIjh69tMOOR7B05JXIjBdazkIQ67EtI5RGpqg0_7pVproPl6DxA/s320/us.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I recently read the book <u>What Alice Forgot</u> by Liane Moriarty.<br />
(Actually, I listened to it. It is set in Australia, so the accents probably made the book better than it actually was.)<br />
In the book, a 39 year old mother of three (in the middle of divorce) hits her head and wakes up thinking she is 29 again. She has no recollection of the last 10 years.<br />
29 was when she was newly married, madly in love, and pregant with her first child.<br />
<br />
This book KICKED. MY. BUTT.<br />
In it, "29 year old" Alice was shocked by the way her husband spoke to 39 year old Alice.<br />
She was confused by the seriousness of her current life. Everything always seemed so urgent and important. Didn't they have fun anymore?<br />
Alice read some emails she had written to her husband leading up to the divorce and she COULD NOT BELIEVE that she could have ever written such things to the love of her life. So bitter. So harsh.<br />
<br />
It got me thinking about Clay and I - before kids.<br />
I would watch Nascar races (I joined a Nascar Fantasy League and CARED ABOUT MY TEAM.)<br />
We would spend hours playing video games with each other. (It can be therapeutic to blow up your spouse.)<br />
We almost got kicked out of birthing classes. (We were so busy flirting and giggling with each other than the coach got a bit irritated.)<br />
There was a lot of grace to be had in our home. That "was" is almost painful to read.<br />
<br />
Since that stage of life, things have gotten much more serious. <br />
His career, our children, homeschooling, ministries, responsibilities, blah, blah, blah.<br />
It has all added up to stress.<br />
Our fuses have shortened. We don't have TIME for video games.<br />
We too often forget to play. We forget to be best friends...like we used to be.<br />
It's messed up.<br />
Clay may have less hair than when we were younger and starry-eyed, but he is still the love of my life. The goal is to stop and remember that. Daily.<br />
We need to look into each other's eyes and SEE the young, playful souls that remain...and coax them back out. We need to CHOOSE not to be old, grumpy, married people.<br />
I need to choose to be the flirty wife.<br />
<br />
No more "remembering back when"...<br />
We need to ENJOY (and properly prioritize) the now.<br />
Lord, remind me what it was like when we were twenty-five.<br />
Bring back the love and grace in a POWERFUL way. Give us YOUR love and grace.<br />
I want to be starry-eyed (toward Clay) forever.Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-20107264314453054482015-09-06T16:00:00.001-04:002015-09-06T16:14:05.444-04:00I Have More To SaySo I had a conversation with my friend Renee (who once told me that my blog kind of inspired her to start <a href="http://two-in-the-kitchen.com/" target="_blank">her own blog</a>). The convo went something like this:<br />
<div>
<br />
Renee: "Are you done blogging?"<br />
<div>
Me: "I don't THINK so. I mean, I have more to say. I know God has used it to make people laugh or to help them know that they aren't alone. He also uses it to speak to ME while I write. Even my son reads it. Voluntarily!"</div>
<div>
Renee: "So what is stopping you?"</div>
<div>
Me: "It takes so much time. I think of blog topics ALL THE TIME. I have even started writing out a few...but by the time I write them and edit them, I decide they are no longer relevant, or that they are not funny enough, or that they pretty much suck."</div>
<div>
Renee: "So... you are too critical. You are expecting perfection. No wonder you never blog!"</div>
<div>
Me: "...."</div>
<div>
Renee: "Just write it, read it once, and POST. That's what I do."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Inside my head, I may have laughed at her. No way I could publish something that rough. NO ONE WOULD WANT TO READ IT! Out loud I replied something more like this: "I...well...Maybe I could set apart 30 minutes a day or so."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This was three weeks ago. </div>
<div>
30 minutes a day has NOT happened, but I have been chewing on her idea of "just writing, reading it once, and posting". </div>
<div>
I really have been paralyzed by my own expectations. So in an effort to free myself from this bondage, I am going to try it out. Starting today. </div>
<div>
I am REALLY not sure that my thoughts which have been only semi-filtered should actually be shared with the universe. (Let alone my son. Oh dear, my GRANDMA reads this blog too. Hi Grandma!)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Be afraid. Be very afraid. That way, I don't have to experience all this fear alone.<br />
Bless you for coming along on the journey.<br />
I'm going to TRY not to care too much about what you witness.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVgkGnlztfG5WIOqd31_s-JoafpnvrgCeQz7VmRXwX5IEllRUltj9oQqzUG7oq1X6dlfqDTUK2ysgIuUNYk2AmdVEXFAFoIw1n9bg-wGj2OBKgTEQVLN46_-7G5d_1NlnD9lruHkC3IiZu/s1600/11905747_718943281582448_9193266707050741071_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVgkGnlztfG5WIOqd31_s-JoafpnvrgCeQz7VmRXwX5IEllRUltj9oQqzUG7oq1X6dlfqDTUK2ysgIuUNYk2AmdVEXFAFoIw1n9bg-wGj2OBKgTEQVLN46_-7G5d_1NlnD9lruHkC3IiZu/s320/11905747_718943281582448_9193266707050741071_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">This is Renee and her husband, Johan.<br />
(Well his name is Eric; but my family pretty much refuses to call him Eric.)<br />
I've heard that it's good to add photos to a blog, so I added this without their permission.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</div>
Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-31411227066962899742015-04-11T10:13:00.005-04:002015-04-11T10:17:33.338-04:00Vanity<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-mcOCucyOTC0vVYQv-cRxsOm96z4WTcsaNGBTHXAZH58TPG_30WTApbXtNOHSvNtgj8FeQYhRmlJz3tELfDiA0IFY70wf2NPsXyxCdCDLloKuaA5oV2KqbfJQGFgL4QwoQWDPANAV7Ui/s1600/vanity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-mcOCucyOTC0vVYQv-cRxsOm96z4WTcsaNGBTHXAZH58TPG_30WTApbXtNOHSvNtgj8FeQYhRmlJz3tELfDiA0IFY70wf2NPsXyxCdCDLloKuaA5oV2KqbfJQGFgL4QwoQWDPANAV7Ui/s1600/vanity.jpg" height="100" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.7272720336914px; line-height: 19.4886360168457px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.7272720336914px; line-height: 19.4886360168457px;">*I posted this as a note on Facebook in 2009 (before I had a blog). I'm transferring it here so my kids can read it. Enjoy.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 19.488636016845703px;">---------------------------------------</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.7272720336914px; line-height: 19.4886360168457px;">Once a month, Clay plays bass guitar at church. I love it, he is one SEXY bass player.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 19.488636016845703px;">(Yes, it IS possible to be sexy in church.)</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 19.488636016845703px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 19.488636016845703px;">Unfortunately, the music responsibility requires him to leave earlier than the rest of the family. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 19.488636016845703px;">Without my dear husband to point out food between my teeth or let me know if toilet paper is stuck to my shoe, I have recently managed to get myself into some interesting "situations".</span><br />
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The last Sunday he was gone, I showed up to church with my dress on backward... yep, backward.<br />
I had a sweater on to cover up all the buttons and embellishments that were now on my BACK instead of my front (so it actually looked "normal"-ish) but I headed to the bathroom and switched it around once I noticed.<br />
And today...</div>
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Well, let me start at the beginning:</div>
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Our church is full of lovely people, but we have not established many close friendships yet. Because of this, I find myself with a stronger desire to be "liked". Although, I know that clothing does not determine "likability", my desire to please had me standing in my closet this morning - frustrated over which jacket I should wear with my brown skirt. With every option slung haphazardly around the room, I picked one and moved on to another important dilemma - shoes. I had a golden flipflop on my left foot and a dainty brown sandal on my right. I decided on the latter, then gathered up kids to pile in the car.</div>
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<br /></div>
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After depositing the kids in their proper classes, I headed to the service. Before I got there, I had the sensation that one of my shoes was slightly higher than the other - and I cringed. Looking down, I felt myself blush. You see, I may have decided to wear the brown sandal, but I neglected to put its mate on my left foot. I was wearing two COMPLETELY different shoes.</div>
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Enter: Vanity</div>
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Any given day, I would gladly go out in public wearing mismatched shoes - on a dare.</div>
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I would show up in church wearing facepaint - if I had a good reason.</div>
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I am generally not too proud to make a fool of myself, but I discovered this morning that I AM vain. I will act ridiculous on my own terms, but my chest tightens at the thought of being laughed at for doing something genuinely "dumb".</div>
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I had to fix this mistake! So I sent a text to my husband and headed for home.<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.7272720336914px; line-height: 19.4886360168457px;">My vanity cried, "What is wrong with me? Two months in a row? I hope no one noticed!"</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.7272720336914px; line-height: 19.4886360168457px;">I had a 30 minute round-trip to contemplate the reason I was driving home. </span></div>
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It was God, my vanity, and me - all locked in a car.</div>
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By the time I got back to church, God and I had decided that vanity didn't belong.</div>
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I honestly wish I would not have changed my mismatched shoes.<br />
I wish I would have unevenly walked in to listen to my husband play guitar. My shoes would have brought giggles to many church friends, been great for a conversation starter...and it would have better represented the person I WANT to be.</div>
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I want to be someone who doesn't need the validation of others to comprehend my great worth.<br />
I want others to see the trust I have in God at ALL times - and that He can use our foibles for His glory.</div>
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<br />
I hope I can carry this little lesson with me. I plan to share it with my children.</div>
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I hope we can all find the positive in our "less-than-perfect" moments and trust that God made us for His GLORY - even in our mismatched shoes.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwI13NxlXtJ9ioFOqOfOmtnAXPtlLULArJxQIFcgEo-uc5AkuiKFNPfvFpNz2XuMw_ohSCfsOsVlRpnFd9u-eNFTk3fpT1gMogs5hyphenhyphenT6p8-bpgH_6q6KRJS92acmxbNj1KjX_ssQjMwmG/s1600/064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwI13NxlXtJ9ioFOqOfOmtnAXPtlLULArJxQIFcgEo-uc5AkuiKFNPfvFpNz2XuMw_ohSCfsOsVlRpnFd9u-eNFTk3fpT1gMogs5hyphenhyphenT6p8-bpgH_6q6KRJS92acmxbNj1KjX_ssQjMwmG/s1600/064.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is cracking me up. I don't know how this photo ended up at the bottom of this post, but I am leaving it BECAUSE my first thought was, "Does that bowling ball make my butt look big?"<br />
Seriously. That is how insane my vanity can be. Ridiculousness. Still learning...6 years later.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-13363290172590585302014-10-02T12:45:00.002-04:002014-10-02T13:02:43.310-04:00Guy EmotionsFellow Mother-of-boys,<a href="http://www.rhondaschrock.com/rhondas_blog/2014/04/29/finding-new-planets-is-nice-but-ill-take-a-translator-please/" target="_blank"> Rhonda Schrock</a>, wrote a <a href="http://www.rhondaschrock.com/rhondas_blog/2014/04/29/finding-new-planets-is-nice-but-ill-take-a-translator-please/" target="_blank">blog post</a> in which she asked for a translator. She was searching for any avenue to better understand the alien men with whom she lives. As she wrote, she marveled, <span style="font-family: inherit;">"<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.901961); line-height: 25px;">Imagine if a burp said, 'That was a fabulous meal. You are a queen among women, and your knack with a skillet is unrivaled.'"</span></span><br />
<br />
Well, Rhonda, you may be on to something!<br />
Her blog got me thinking about a conversation I had with my own <strike>alien</strike> husband.<br />
<br />
I was using my feminine, verbal way to communicate deep love to my handsome man when my eyes crossed and the room became blurry. I was forced to stop speaking because I couldn't catch my breath. Clay, my other half, had dropped a gas-bomb and ruined my sweet moment.<br />
It was silent, but deadly...and there was no warning.<br />
<br />
That fateful day, in an attempt to calm the storm within me which was caused by the wind that escaped him, my husband shared a little secret which has helped me understand the male gender on a whole new level.<br />
Dial in women, what I am about to share with you could save you YEARS of frustration.<br />
<br />
We all know that many men struggle to emote in ways that satisfy women, but Clay took this opportunity to inform me that his gender is actually FULL of emotions which are <i>dying</i> to get out. Problematically, those feelings (in a male body) happen to be stored in gas form...which smells like it's been dead for years.<br />
I was dumbfounded!<br />
This means that all those expulsions I've dealt with for decades could have, quite possibly, been expressions of love!<br />
<br />
Just last week, when we sang "Happy Birthday" to my youngest son while bringing him breakfast in bed; I should not have grimaced as he chimed in with his own melodious (and odorous) bass.<br />
I should have been <i>impressed</i> that he was on beat and touched at the abundance of JOY that was produced by our loving gesture. He simply HAD to exhibit those emotions! His heart was FULL! (Well, SOMETHING was.)<br />
<br />
It has all become so CLEAR now. The cloud has been lifted! (Until one of my testosterone-filled family members decides to "love" me again.)<br />
I just couldn't keep this knowledge to myself, so I am getting the word out.<br />
Men and women alike will thank me for generations to come.<br />
You are welcome.<br />
<br />Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-34128300576420441672014-09-25T09:07:00.002-04:002014-09-25T09:19:46.976-04:00So GLAD I'm Getting Old(er)I used to be quite the little spaz.<br />
Everything was a big deal. All. The. Time.<br />
In school, I would prefer to cheat on an assignment than risk getting anything<br />
less than an 'A'.<br />
I would spend HOURS explaining myself when I felt misunderstood.<br />
I couldn't let anything go.<br />
(OK, so maybe I still do this to Clay at times, but I'm workin' on it.)<br />
<br />
I thought people needed to think like me, see the world like me, BE like me.<br />
I followed a set of rules, and felt that others should follow them too.<br />
I just KNEW I had thought through all of the "whys" of life.<br />
I had a good reason for every action I took...so I was SURELY "right".<br />
Within that little box of control and unattainable perfection, I was consumed with how I was perceived. I wanted to please EVERYONE. It was exhausting. It was suffocating. It was wrong.<br />
<br />
I can still get a bit intense at times; but my friend, Hindsight, has really calmed me down.<br />
She is a force to be reckoned with.<br />
I just have to acknowledge Hindsight, and she makes a difference in my here and now.<br />
<br />
Looking at her, I see that wading through disobedience to God has brought misery and struggle to seasons of my life.<br />
She also reveals that walking in obedience has resulted in internal peace and FREEDOM during other pieces of my life.<br />
Hindsight's 41 years of wisdom show me that God loves me in my imperfections, and that He USES them to reveal my need for Him.<br />
Good ol' Hindsight.<br />
<br />
Every time I glance her way, I am reminded that loving others is far more important than being 'right'.<br />
She's proven that to me.<br />
Most of all, I have witnessed through her that hard times always get better - eventually. Each hard moment I've lived has made me stronger, taught me a lesson, and tore away some of the ugly in me.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Yep, that Hindsight, I need to keep in touch with her on a daily basis.<br />
<br />
Just the other day, God used Hindsight to provide me with some much needed perspective.<br />
I was comparing myself to others. I was feeling old. I was self-conscious about the swollen, wrinkled skin around my allergy-inflamed eyes.<br />
She pointed to some of my favorite people in the world. She followed the paths they have taken through my life, and she said in a sarcastic voice, "Yah, the only reason you love them is because they are pretty."<br />
Her figurative eye-roll reminded me that I don't even consider physical beauty when I contemplate those people who warm my heart the most. I connect with their spirit. I respond to their authentic love. External beauty is NOT how I want others to connect to me either.<br />
I want others to light up when they think of me because of how I make them FEEL in the depths of their spirit. Do they know they are loved?<br />
<br />
Age is such a gift. It has really calmed me down.<br />
I praise God for every laugh line, as well as every scar.<br />
<br />
Thank you, Hindsight...<br />
Or maybe I should I call you by your proper name: Wisdom.<br />
As each year passes, I get a bit more of you in my life. Praise God.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;"><span class="versenum" style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px 3px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;">Job 12:12</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"> Is not wisdom found among the aged?</span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="19" style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"></a><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"> Does not long life bring understanding?</span></span>Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-45847417263639001872014-09-11T22:55:00.000-04:002014-09-25T09:29:02.625-04:00I Used to Write a Blog"So what you are actually saying...is that you USED to write a blog."<br />
<br />
It happened after explaining to the English class that I regularly utilize a thesaurus when writing.<br />
"Well, if I find time to write... I mean, I DO have a blog. In fact, you guys would probably like to read it...but I haven't really posted anything for 6 or 8 months..."<br />
*mumble, mumble, talk to myself, forget that there are other people listening*<br />
<br />
Then BOOM! *insert perfectly timed comment mentioned above - that struck right at my heart.*<br />
<br />
Hmmm...he's got a point. Can I even say that I write a blog?<br />
Can I smack this kid for pointing it out?<br />
I'll show YOU, you <strike>snarky</strike> clever little 11th grade boy who felt the need to challenge me.<br />
TA DA!<br />
I am CURRENTLY WRITING a blog!<br />
I win. You lose. That is all.<br />
<br />
*sigh*<br />
*shaking my head*<br />
It took a confrontation with an adolescent for me to write something.<br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;">[sidenote: I just utilized a thesaurus to recall the word 'confrontation' rather than using the phrase 'pissing match' which was my first impulse. Those thesauruses really ARE wonderful. Sometimes, after spending my days with teenage boys, I need assistance to clean up my act and sound semi-educated.]</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;">[sidenote to my sidenote: My boys just read the words 'pissing match' over my shoulder. It is a new term for them. They are laughing hysterically and spouting off about lighting fires and urine. It's not pretty, but it IS kind of funny. Oh my, there really is NO hope for me...or my children.]</span><br />
<br />
I love teenagers. Truly, I do.<br />
Intelligent, challenging, thinking ones are 'extra bonus' fun.<br />
They keep things interesting and, apparently, push me to get things done.Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-78561792744600233432014-01-30T20:29:00.002-05:002014-09-25T20:46:05.121-04:00K12 Online Public School vs. Ted Talks<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.quotehd.com/imagequotes/TopAuthors/tmb/mark-twain-author-i-have-never-let-my-schooling-interfere-with-my.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Oh how I wish I could say that about our homeschool.<br />
I have let state standards, college preparation, and overall comparison cast a shadow over the freedom I SHOULD feel as I educate my children. (My boys, after all, need to be the brightest and most talented among their peers - and I must have documentation to prove it!)<br />
*I just threw up in my mouth a little*<br />
<br />
This year has had me on a journey of change in this area. It's been freeing - and a little scary.<br />
<br />
It all started at the end of last year when my brain kept saying, "HOW is one silly mom supposed to provide a comparable education to the MANY qualified junior high teachers at the school who are SPECIALIZED in their fields of study?"<br />
I had no answer for that. I was SURE I was ruining my children for life.<br />
To alleviate my concerns and reduce my workload, we decided to let someone else plan our school this year. We looked at the large price tags on all the curriculum and teacher support systems out there - and saw that K12 online public school was FREE. Jackpot!<br />
It is a state accredited school provided by the government with individual teachers for each subject. Did I mention it's free?<br />
What a deal! What a blessing!<br />
What a HUGE MISTAKE!</div>
<div>
For us, it sucked like a Hoover vacuum.<br />
<br />
I have a seventh-grade boy who builds computer programs FOR FUN.<br />
He taught himself to solve a Rubic cube - because any proper nerd should have this skill.<br />
He watches documentaries with his father and checks history books out of the library because they are "interesting".</div>
<div>
Obviously, he can read and regurgitate information in his sleep. (He actually does this sometimes, he is quite the talker after 10:00 pm.)<br />
And he detested online school.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
His younger brother, my very bright "man of action", who does math problems in his head because writing it all down is such a bother, also struggled. Interaction, nature, and movement help him retain information; but they were hard to come by with the K12 methodology.<br />
<ul>
<li>Don't stop to take a note, or draw a picture - there is no time!</li>
<li>Don't dig deeper about a subject that interests you. How will you finish your grammar worksheet if you do that?</li>
<li>Don't talk to your brother! He is in a different grade, in a different class, and doesn't have time to stop HIS learning to interact with the likes of you!</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
They were achieving mastery in every subject...and experiencing slow death.<br />
I, of course, was bound and determined to stick with it.<br />
My boys are capable! I wouldn't have people judging us and thinking we couldn't "hack" it. </div>
<div>
We pressed on - and walked around with a very heavy load on our shoulders (consisting mainly of textbooks and online assessments).<br />
<br />
Then a very wise friend asked, "How much <i>joy</i> do you have in your days?"<br />
<br />
After I quit crying...we went ahead and quit online public school.<br />
It didn't work for us.<br />
We couldn't hack it after all, and I realized I was REALLY OK with that.<br />
<br />
Now I am re-evaluating my whole thought process about state standards and college prep...and WHY we do what we do. We took the time to jump through each and every hoop placed before us by our culture and were left wanting.<br />
Now I have the slightly scary process of redefining our home education.<br />
It could be a long road.<br />
<br />
So what now?<br />
Faith. Faith that the path will be made clear.<br />
And JOY - lots of joy in our days.<br />
<br />
We hope to foster a lifestyle (and love) of learning for our boys in the years we have left.<br />
Clay and I are evaluating our own lives and seeing how we model this behavior...and where we need to improve.<br />
We want to be more intentional with our time - even on those evenings when we all just want to vegetate. Don't get me wrong, we are still lazy; but we've been watching <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks" target="_blank">Ted Talks</a> and Netflix documentaries as we snuggle up on the couch and eat thin mints.<br />
(Shhhh! The boys enjoy the family "screen time" and haven't complained about the extra learning that sneaks in.)<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;">*Sidenote: We love the Girl Scouts, but they are going to have to change the name of those cookies to Used-to-be Thin Mints*</span><br />
<br />
We are still studying all the traditional subjects during the day; but we are definitely changing our approach. We desire to educate the WHOLE mind and not just the parts of it that are good at processing data. We have our work cut out for us.<br />
<br />
The following Ted Talk has encouraged us along the way. It is funny. It's thought-provoking, and it is only ONE of the many talks that have been shaping our new way of thinking.<br />
Go ahead, watch it...and join us on our journey.<br />
We can all use a little encouragement as we try to understand our children and help them thrive.<br />
<br />
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Ken Robertson TedTalk about Creativity</div>
</div>
Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-43356957874578709672014-01-07T12:36:00.002-05:002014-09-25T09:29:23.555-04:00Really? Creative Writing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKeFgjZ9fBdN14gnYjivJlXeFiFGmCA3ApGCqgSYxUaZcXbZSDxUYpown8YcWIEssxEnSdblUDB6VehFd7xW-T6FOxFEnOPj4BsLHQtJY5VzPeWuIS0JEtB4t_N4C8Gon4Be7Ng2_5FWcc/s1600/report.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKeFgjZ9fBdN14gnYjivJlXeFiFGmCA3ApGCqgSYxUaZcXbZSDxUYpown8YcWIEssxEnSdblUDB6VehFd7xW-T6FOxFEnOPj4BsLHQtJY5VzPeWuIS0JEtB4t_N4C8Gon4Be7Ng2_5FWcc/s1600/report.jpg" height="115" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Explosions, guns, hunting, blood, and underwear...<br />
These are the main subject matter in our homeschool writing club comprised solely of young boys.<br />
<br />
"What would our children write about if they went to public school?" I queried.<br />
"I have no idea, but I'm SURE they would be expelled for reading THESE stories," replied my cohort in writing club crime.<br />
<br />
'Tis true. We are raising creative writing delinquents.<br />
Although I often take a red pen to rough drafts in hopes of limiting the gross/violence factor, final drafts would rarely pass muster in an institution for the masses.<br />
<br />
The thing is: my fifth and seventh graders are learning to ENJOY the written word.<br />
Strong verbs, descriptive language and compound sentences are not nearly so daunting when the subject matter is engaging and makes them grunt with heightened levels of testosterone.<br />
<br />
My kids are becoming competent, creative writers.<br />
They will, someday, be successful when asked to draft a presentation for the 'big wigs' at work (or a college professor). If these skills are learned while creating PowerPoint presentations to convince their parents that the latest PlayStation game is necessary (for killing zombies and thriving in the future Apocalypse); so be it.<br />
If they become proficient in drafting business letters while writing to the M&M Candy Corporation expressing disappointment with the term "fun-size" on teeny-tiny bags of M&Ms, I say, "Rock on."<br />
If writing an accurate and detailed report about Cedar Point happens to include a description about vomit or underwear while adequately expressing the rush of adrenaline which occurred on a ride, I'll take it! A successfully written report (with details) WAS achieved.<br />
<br />
They can deal with dry subject matter later if their future 'real-world' requires it. In the meantime, I have some fundamentals to ingrain within their cute little heads, and I have the freedom to do this any way I deem fit. Thank you homeschool!<br />
<br />
I am sure many would poo-poo my methods.<br />
That's OK. I'm sure I would also poo-poo theirs.<br />
(I just wrote poo-poo in an "acceptable" way, and it made me laugh.<br />
Sorry, I couldn't let that slide - I live with boys.)<br />
<br />
If I risk raising delinquents, it is a risk I am willing to take.<br />
I hardly think I can avoid rule-questioning/bending/breaking children anyway.<br />
(I know their parents.)<br />
I might as well use this tendency for their future benefit.Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-37136059869764194132013-11-04T14:55:00.004-05:002014-09-25T09:29:59.062-04:00A Road Rally Bar Mitzvah<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvClbMKBbpoHxAD-T7JqidFvv_N8SSP6bikMO_Y9aViitfK_rlqIThp76IsAffYU6H6ZwPwMkNVtauhCYvoZZqeS4NOofVxxN0dpXQxZDm0boOQtEOlOF85kYPjaiGzsDy6zRH2BGd5Gd/s1600/car.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvClbMKBbpoHxAD-T7JqidFvv_N8SSP6bikMO_Y9aViitfK_rlqIThp76IsAffYU6H6ZwPwMkNVtauhCYvoZZqeS4NOofVxxN0dpXQxZDm0boOQtEOlOF85kYPjaiGzsDy6zRH2BGd5Gd/s320/car.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Yep, we had a bar mitzvah.<br />
<div>
Nope, we aren't Jewish.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Clay has been referring to Micah's 13th birthday party as his bar mitzvah for the past 6 months. </div>
<div>
So when it got closer to the actual day, I started researching this Jewish 13th birthday tradition. </div>
<div>
A Bar Mitzvah is an initiation ceremony for the transition from boyhood to manhood. The teen boy is required to take personal responsibility for his own spiritual walk, knowing that he must answer to God for his own choices.</div>
<div>
Wow! What a great opportunity to challenge our son AND celebrate at the same time! </div>
<div>
Done!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Because we can't do anything serious without infusing a little fun, we started the party with a Road Rally. (If you aren't familiar with this phenomena of awesomeness, it's somewhat like the Amazing Race. If you aren't familiar with the Amazing Race, you need to get out more - and you can think of a Road Rally as a city-wide scavenger hunt...which requires cars.)</div>
<div>
Clay and I had so much fun planning the day. The teams had to solve riddles, accomplish tasks, find objects...and take pictures or videos of each event. No proof? Didn't happen.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here are some photos (and pdfs) of our Road Rally paperwork. </div>
<div>
My kids have already done it. I probably won't use it again. </div>
<div>
That's a lot of work for a "one and done" activity. </div>
<div>
PLEASE USE THIS STUFF and make it work for your own rally! </div>
<div>
(It can be adjusted to work for most towns.)</div>
<div>
Even if you have no intention of ever doing a road rally, you may want to click on some of the tasks just to giggle about our day. (Then keep reading the rest of the blog to find out about the bar mitzvah.)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdweVfiuKgtY8SyEccj2COAiFxZZ65d2urCXKEbJZNyGiZ1cRArX0n776b5ScTrYE6zwQSfSS-7SbzUKVAYhkXSHVoBAaAGyhfPZcLLwdV4_71s-nyERO4fAtiTPRmicsvOfeASeNFcNO/s1600/Roadrally+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSdweVfiuKgtY8SyEccj2COAiFxZZ65d2urCXKEbJZNyGiZ1cRArX0n776b5ScTrYE6zwQSfSS-7SbzUKVAYhkXSHVoBAaAGyhfPZcLLwdV4_71s-nyERO4fAtiTPRmicsvOfeASeNFcNO/s320/Roadrally+1.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pZ8Rwjqmp-9oPlZPZpG6ulVwinadHRi-go2_Rf6kHURio0BCpoEIdF7_g5I0C7-7LlL8Gdm4f0-ZYnAEtLsPnSDzsAz8QfaP5wG1jn80-VbaEPNhgYPkB-AT9N0AVL1U12Sn2c9DXYOT/s1600/Roadrally+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pZ8Rwjqmp-9oPlZPZpG6ulVwinadHRi-go2_Rf6kHURio0BCpoEIdF7_g5I0C7-7LlL8Gdm4f0-ZYnAEtLsPnSDzsAz8QfaP5wG1jn80-VbaEPNhgYPkB-AT9N0AVL1U12Sn2c9DXYOT/s320/Roadrally+2.jpg" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first page of fun tasks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvmP18JLHw-yH-EBrg7-9fR416qkw9gwgRRSgd9kO7KJEiSWZZwZSplbTPkqi3AsfCXkiVk19aI3n5e_QV9-gtfm2OTHLBKw-e7q32RhNlIHoxtXTsBQsz9Ydn4dyw99FjACF-cPx0v-e/s1600/Roadrally+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvmP18JLHw-yH-EBrg7-9fR416qkw9gwgRRSgd9kO7KJEiSWZZwZSplbTPkqi3AsfCXkiVk19aI3n5e_QV9-gtfm2OTHLBKw-e7q32RhNlIHoxtXTsBQsz9Ydn4dyw99FjACF-cPx0v-e/s320/Roadrally+3.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You know you want to read them...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUyEdwPQBO9eR_kePJGjUIeRsHtuiTV-BaTqfldUH88PWCCyZ5bNMOpUS2XgFHEvvgRCvw5ZarDUh-FUKah-AwlPx50pczqNzA3DAH8GJIDhScig7TWIyWaaDgYu4eSKuZiv0URIc-FWTj/s1600/Roadrally+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUyEdwPQBO9eR_kePJGjUIeRsHtuiTV-BaTqfldUH88PWCCyZ5bNMOpUS2XgFHEvvgRCvw5ZarDUh-FUKah-AwlPx50pczqNzA3DAH8GJIDhScig7TWIyWaaDgYu4eSKuZiv0URIc-FWTj/s320/Roadrally+4.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The teams had to make three cornhole shots before they could leave the "Crack the Code" house.<br />
If you don't know what cornhole is...you're missing out.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1v6gH3jJ2W6z__Bv-G70AIicV8Ubr-6CQ9xdX7Iq90SU-TsersHaXsu-9qF-uDhgqv9JQMQNWLoSPGFZsyi7iUJr4cFVEkuMT_DPSDa7wB9Hl3UMt8OzQwCPfR1TY9AH4DkYhQbXxh_7/s1600/Roadrally+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1v6gH3jJ2W6z__Bv-G70AIicV8Ubr-6CQ9xdX7Iq90SU-TsersHaXsu-9qF-uDhgqv9JQMQNWLoSPGFZsyi7iUJr4cFVEkuMT_DPSDa7wB9Hl3UMt8OzQwCPfR1TY9AH4DkYhQbXxh_7/s320/Roadrally+5.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B8uJahIvtBRDMS1CY0pzeXJCaWc/edit?usp=sharing" target="_blank">Click HERE if you want these Road Rally forms as pdf</a></div>
<div>
<br />
I want to post so many of the funny videos, but I will protect the privacy of the other party attenders.<br />
Here is a quick video of my youngest son "weezing the juice" for Bonus Points.<br />
I know it's a tease.<br />
(Oh well, it's not the first time I've been accused of that.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwt39q-yrsE2z4bYv86UvxF_xnBpQuyohNt57ykQocuPQYmXwevapT6ZACWJ3IwtFzYUvnWWyVcudM2ixRErw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
The last stop of the road rally had each car picking up pizza, so we all came back together to watch the videos and eat. (Clay made a spreadsheet to quickly add up scores. It didn't go as quickly as we hoped. We learned that we should have made the teams do things in a certain order or keep their own score sheet that coincided with their photos.)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After pizza, we served cupcakes and coffee for the bar mitzvah portion of the night.</div>
<div>
It all started out as Clay's "joke"; but when we decided to add this spiritual element to our day, he surprised me. He took the religious initiation seriously! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Normally I am the one who gets put in charge of anything that requires speaking (or words and planning in general), but HE wanted to do this. He wanted to set this example for our son.</div>
<div>
He poured through photos and made a slideshow. </div>
<div>
He chose the approach to take as we introduced this stage of life to Micah and decided to focus on the verse written on Micah's bedroom wall (Ephesians 6:10-11). It speaks of putting on the armor of God. Clay challenged our new teenager to put on his own armor instead of depending solely upon ours. My creative husband even bought Micah a Leatherman multi-tool as a physical reminder that we have many tools at our disposal, but we must CHOOSE to use them. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't think Clay has ever said so many serious things at one time. (He even got choked up a bit.)</div>
<div>
I am always spouting spiritual things to our boys. I'm sure it had a MUCH BIGGER IMPACT since Clay took the lead on this one. I'm so very proud of him.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Finally, we ended with this video. </div>
<div>
A teenager took part in a poetry slam and spoke about his Judaism.</div>
<div>
He talked about how he's been "brainwashed" by his parents. </div>
<div>
I hope Micah feels the same way.</div>
<div>
It was the perfect "send off" for the crowd. </div>
<div>
It is a powerful three minutes.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-1341972294232776822013-10-03T13:59:00.001-04:002014-09-25T09:30:46.308-04:00Unintentional Hiatus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Once in a while, I go a month where I just can't manage to finish a blog.<br />
That month was July. No big deal.<br />
Then came August.<br />
August was NOT funny, witty, or encouraging.<br />
I'm not even sure that I LEARNED anything the entire month.<br />
<span style="color: red;">sidenote:</span> I <i>WAS</i> on a destructive path that would bring wonderful learning opportunities soon.<br />
<span style="color: red;">sidenote to my sidenote: </span>I did actually write a blog about the new Online Public School K12 Curriculum that we started, but I need to make it more funny and less snarky before I post it. You may be waiting a while for that to actually happen..or I may just post the snarky one. We'll see.<br />
<br />
Anywho, I walked around most of the month feeling heavy.<br />
(For once I'm not talking about the scale!)<br />
It was as if someone was sitting on my soul.<br />
I am good at pointing everyone else to God when things get tough - but I didn't really FEEL like turning to Him. Sure, I would go through the motions on occasion. Bible study, accountability partners, and church attendance helped the fog to dissipate for a moment or two; but on a day-to-day basis, I mainly "did my own thang".<br />
<br />
In one attempt to feel less heavy, I started <strike>inhaling</strike> eating comfort foods.<br />
(Yes, I am noting the irony, and thinking that maybe the scale DID help with a little heaviness.)<br />
Oddly, *sarcasm font needed* the eating didn't help.<br />
(I'm pretty sure any stirring that happened deep inside me after munching jalapeno poppers, Kit Kats, or ice cream had more to do with indigestion than God.)<br />
Comfort eating did more harm than good, but I kept at it (just to make sure).<br />
<br />
I also started reading - A LOT.<br />
I tried to escape my apathy and daily struggles with entertainment.<br />
I picked up a book series that was a Kit Kat for my soul. Temporary satisfaction, nothing healthy or worthwhile. The characters were funny. It was an easy read; but the language, lifestyle, and libido of those quirky characters were NOT filling my life with hope or proper perspective.<br />
Again, it did me more harm than good.<br />
Again, I kept at it for a while...<br />
<br />
Throughout August, we had many situations where I could have used God's guidance; but I just wasn't able to still my mind and hear Him. I tried a few times, but issues kept getting in the way.<br />
I wanted to RUN from them.<br />
<br />
As I ran, I quit fortifying areas in my life that had previously been strong. I gave over to selfishness and distraction in the smallest areas of my life. I wasn't connecting with God, AND I wasn't connecting with my kids or my husband. I neglected the things that are meaningful in my life and unconsciously replaced them with ESCAPE. The computer... or an audio book... or a doughnut...became my solution (which solved nothing).<br />
EVERYTHING started to feel out of control.<br />
Our marriage. My parenting. Our house. The boys' school. It was a spiral of crazy.<br />
<br />
I kept telling myself I had NOTHING to complain about.<br />
"My life is GREAT. I am blessed in so many ways!"<br />
And then I would cry.<br />
I was overwhelmed, and I had to admit that I was oppressed.<br />
It wasn't LIFE that was getting in the way, it was the way I was VIEWING life.<br />
I was numb. I was negative. I was deceived.<br />
<br />
It had to change.<br />
I had to make a choice...and I was finally miserable enough to make the RIGHT one.<br />
That's how it tends to work with me.<br />
For instance, I only start exercising or dieting when my pants don't fit, my energy leaves, and the idea of living that way seems even scarier than the effort of self-discipline. The HOPE of smaller pants and renewed energy makes it WORTH the work.<br />
That's the point I reached within my spirit.<br />
I missed God.<br />
I missed peace.<br />
I was a wreck, and I knew their was HOPE IN CHRIST - so I pursued Him.<br />
<br />
I started confessing and emptying out all the selfishness and fear.<br />
I changed my focus and started PRAISING God for the blessings He heaps upon me.<br />
I started WORSHIPING God for WHO HE IS.<br />
I kept reading God's word and filling my mind with TRUTH.<br />
Even in entertainment, I started choosing items to reminded me that life is bigger than my difficult moments.<br />
<br />
In the process of pursuing God (even when I didn't "feel" like it) the heavy weight lifted.<br />
More accurately, the strength needed to carry the heavy weight was<i> provided</i>.<br />
It may have taken an extra month of (non-blogging) recovery to get here, but I feel light again.<br />
I am laughing again.<br />
Marriage, family, and school (kinda, maybe) are better again.<br />
So glad to be with you again,<br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;"><b>Becky</b></span></i><br />
<br />
<b>Matthew 11:28-30</b><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Matt-11-28" id="en-NIV-23488" style="background-color: white;"><span class="woj">Come to me,<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23488AG" title="See cross-reference AG">AG</a>)"></span> all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23488AH" title="See cross-reference AH">AH</a>)"></span></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span class="text Matt-11-29" id="en-NIV-23489" style="background-color: white;"><span class="woj"><span style="font-size: small;">Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,</span><span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23489AI" title="See cross-reference AI">AI</a>)"></span><span style="font-size: small;"> for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.</span><b> </b></span></span><span class="text Matt-11-30" id="en-NIV-23490" style="background-color: white;"><span class="woj">For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Matt-11-30" style="background-color: white;"><span class="woj"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Matt-11-30" style="background-color: white;"><span class="woj"><b>Psalm 66:10-12 </b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Ps-66-10" id="en-NIV-14884" style="background-color: white; position: relative;">For you, God, tested<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14884R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></span> us;</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-66-10" style="position: relative;">you refined us like silver.<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14884S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)"></span></span></span><br style="background-color: white;" /><span class="text Ps-66-11" id="en-NIV-14885" style="background-color: white; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">11 </span>You brought us into prison<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14885T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)"></span></span><br style="background-color: white;" /><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-66-11" style="position: relative;">and laid burdens<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14885U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></span> on our backs.</span></span><br style="background-color: white;" /><span class="text Ps-66-12" id="en-NIV-14886" style="background-color: white; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">12 </span>You let people ride over our heads;<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14886V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></span></span><br style="background-color: white;" /><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-66-12" style="position: relative;">we went through fire and water,</span></span><br style="background-color: white;" /><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> <i> </i></span><span class="text Ps-66-12" style="position: relative;"><i>but you brought us to a place of abundance</i>.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Matt-11-30" style="background-color: white;"><span class="woj"><br /></span></span>
</span><br />
<br />Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-45551189841037186092013-06-21T09:31:00.001-04:002013-09-26T11:04:10.037-04:00Tortilla Pizza<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was looking in our fridge for something easy to throw together for lunch.<br />
<div>
"Let's see, what on earth can I make with tortillas, a partial bag of shredded cheese and that half a jar of spaghetti sauce that is lurking in the back shelf?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Brilliance. That's what I made.<br />
(a.k.a. A Tortilla Pizza)</div>
<div>
It has less bread than a regular quesadilla and less calories than a regular pizza. </div>
<div>
It has TOMATO sauce on it so my boys (almost, kind of) get a vegetable!</div>
<div>
Each kid can pick his own toppings. </div>
<div>
My boys make them all by themselves with ingredients that I always have on hand.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If they are still hungry after their individualized pizza is gone, I can make them eat fruit and vegetables.<br />
I mean, they ate a "whole pizza"! (They can't even argue with that logic. Good stuff!)</div>
<div>
I am just irritated that I didn't do this before.<br />
(Feel free to make a comment and brag about how many YEARS you have been making these and how they have made your life <i>so much</i> easier...and how it's ABOUT TIME that I put two and two together and joined in the fun.)<br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;">*sidenote: My friend, Tami, told me a month ago that she makes pizza on Flatout bread because it is thin crust and lower calorie. I thought, "I'm too cheap to buy Flatout bread." It DIDN'T EVEN OCCUR TO ME to use a tortilla. </span><br />
<br />
<b>Cooking instructions: </b>(Becky style - which means vague)<br />
I broiled them to melt the cheese.<br />
My boys sometimes bake them for 10 minutes or so on 350 (because that is the temperature the oven automatically goes to).<br />
<br />
Now that I blogged about this...I'm off to buy more tortillas before my crew discovers the shortage and decides on mutiny.</div>
Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-78014144824740630072013-06-16T14:03:00.003-04:002013-06-16T14:31:10.218-04:00Daddy's DayMy brothers used to send me to persuade our Dad when they wanted him to buy pizza.<br />
"Just climb up in his lap and do your thing, Beck."<br />
They knew I had a good chance of convincing him.<br />
It's hard not to melt a bit when your only little girl calls you, "Daddy".<br />
<br />
I still call him that...when it's just him and me.<br />
He has loved me too deeply for the stuffy title of "Father".<br />
"Dad" could work, but all five of his other kids call him THAT (2 original sons and 3 newer siblings that married in).<br />
I'm the only one who can snuggle into the term "Daddy" without feeling weird...so I play that card every chance I get. It reminds him of the girl who used to crawl up in his lap and ask for pizza...and it reminds me of the first man that held my heart in his hands.<br />
<br />
We have a special connection, him and me...probably because I am so much like him.<br />
I irritate him. I challenge him. I "get" him.<br />
God is funny that way.<br />
He took many of my father's qualities and wrapped them up in a pink bundle... then my parents named the tiny package Becky.<br />
<br />
He is hard on himself, but he sees beauty in me. He has always made that clear.<br />
I think I'm like my Dad so he can better see and appreciate how God made HIM.<br />
In some ways, God has allowed me to be a mirror for my dad. I get to reflect some of his qualities back at him so he sees them from a different perspective. Sure, it's not <i>always</i> pretty, but Dad sees how it CAN be beautiful when the quality is filtered through pink and draped over his daughter.<br />
I pray that he knows that those same qualities are FANTASTIC even when they are blue.<br />
(Oh wait! God gave him a couple of boys to help with that one too!)<br />
<br />
Dear Dad(dy), know that the pride you have for your children doesn't go just one way.<br />
We are all so proud of the godly example that you are.<br />
We are proud of the way that you minister with passion and energy and spunk.<br />
We are proud of the sacrificial love you show to your family and to others. Your love runs deep.<br />
We are proud to be like you in so many ways...because you reflect our Heavenly father into this world - and HIS qualities are the most important no matter WHICH color they are being seen through.<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">"Parents are the pride of their children." </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">Prov 17:6 </span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">Yes. Yes you are. Thank you for that.</span>Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-41552094411774831452013-06-15T10:47:00.003-04:002013-06-16T14:31:21.661-04:00It Seemed Like a Good Idea...At The Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
In honor of Father's Day...<br />
<br />
Children: Ages 6 and 8<br />
Soccer season was blending right into baseball season, and Clay, being a good dad, was in the front yard playing both sports with our boys.<br />
Clay, also being Clay, decided that it would be GREAT fun to pitch a soccer ball to our small children so they could hit it with their aluminum baseball bat.<br />
Micah, our cautious and thinking child, questioned the "brilliance" (and safety) of his father's new brainstorm and refused to be the guinea pig.<br />
Evan, the apple which fell right at the foot of the proverbial tree, jumped up to volunteer.<br />
The soccer ball SOARED across the yard as Evan's bat made contact.<br />
Oh, what fun they had discovered!<br />
Micah soon decided that success had been proven and that he needed to join the crazy.<br />
(He may be cautious, but he knows not to miss out.)<br />
He stepped up to the plate, swung away...and his bat bounced squarely off the soccer ball and ricocheted back into his head. The resulting bump grew so big and so fast that little brother broke down into tears at the sight of it. ("WHAT happened to Micah's HEAD???!!!???")<br />
This mother's heart sank as wails reached her ears.<br />
My family of boys entered the house, father holding one weeping child, little brother still traumatized.<br />
My eyes met the eyes of my beloved. Mine questioning. His eyebrows raised...and I heard his famous phrase, "It seemed like a good idea...at the time."<br />
<br />
Child: Age 10<br />
My youngest boy, the animal lover, desperately wanted a pet he could snuggle.<br />
Fish just weren't cutting it anymore. With our allergies, he knew he was fighting a losing battle if he tried to push for a furry friend...so he focused on the reptile family.<br />
A snake.<br />
Clay caught a snake as a boy...and permanently lost it somewhere inside the old farmhouse.<br />
Clay's parents never knew about the arrangement, but since Evan's wishes were on our radar...Clay was NOT going to repeat that particular scenario in our suburban home.<br />
No pets at the Rassi home - except fish. Conversation over.<br />
Clay doesn't like to be mean. He prefers to lighten a tense mood with a joke.<br />
Knowing this about my husband, please give him a LITTLE grace when you hear what happened next. (That's what I have to do - daily - as I remember that his heart is pure even when I don't agree with his methods).<br />
***The next day***<br />
I was walking down the hall, Evan behind me, when he started whining, "Dad told me I couldn't have a snake! He didn't even talk to YOU. He just said, 'NO'. He said the only snake I'm am allowed to have is a Trouser Snake."<br />
I stopped in my tracks and lifted a prayer, "Please God, let there be an ACTUAL SNAKE called a Trouser Snake."<br />
I slowly turned to look at my son and innocently asked, "Um, what's a Trouser Snake?"<br />
He fought very hard to stay upset (he was trying to manipulate his way into his mother's sympathies after all), but a smile peeked through his eyes as he pointed to the place in his trousers that covers the natural "snake" that God attached to all Y chromosomes.<br />
I sighed and responded, "I'm sorry you can't have a "real" snake, but that's just how it is...and you probably shouldn't tell your friends about that OTHER snake. It is kind of like Santa Clause. We'll let THEIR parents tell them all about it, OK?"<br />
Then I shot off a text to my other half: "A Trouser Snake? Really?"<br />
I could almost see him wince as he realized he was "caught". His response?<br />
"Sorry. I wanted to distract him from the pet. It seemed like a good idea...at the time."<br />
<br />
Now, let me share with you how the previous scenarios support that Clay is actually a GOOD father:<br />
<ul>
<li>Clay makes these parenting "faux pas" because he gets carried away HAVING FUN WITH HIS CHILDREN. He adores them. They are two of his very best friends...so he sometimes forgets that they don't have 30 extra years of life experience and maturity to be able to handle his humor. That's why there is grace. God gave these boys to my man. He is the VERY BEST THING FOR THEM. I'm not worried.</li>
<li>As he jokes, our boys learn to rise above each situation and look at it from a higher (big-picture) perspective. They learn that laughter can get us through an awful lot of heartache...as long as we remember where our joy comes from. It's not from following rules and jumping through hoops. Joy is not found in perfection. (In fact, their dad shows them that we can LAUGH when we make mistakes...and learn from them rather than be defeated.)</li>
<li>Clay teaches my boys to be leaders who forge their own trail, not followers staying in someone else's tiny little box. (Boxes are boring...unless you turn them into pirate ships or spacecrafts...or stick your brother inside of them...ahem.)</li>
<li>He is teaching them how to take risks - ones that require God's help to navigate.</li>
<li>They are also learning how to get back up when they (quite literally) get knocked down.</li>
<li>Clay does everything authentically, without pretense...even being a father. My boys see who he REALLY is, not a facade. They hear him acknowledge (and sometimes even apologize) if he realizes that he crossed a line. They see him mature (honestly!) in areas of his life and lead them in brand new ways. Authenticity is one of the character traits that most drew me to this mate of mine. And even if it's a quality I question at times, it's one that I want my children to model.</li>
</ul>
I wanted to honor Clay this special weekend.<br />
I could write a whole other blog about the things he is teaching my boys about being a godly husband, but our 15 year anniversary is next month so you can read about that then.<br />
Instead, I hope I made you laugh and pointed you to God at the same time. That is how Clay was made to impact this world - and (in my eyes) he is beautifully living out that purpose.<br />
<br />
<span class="text Deut-6-5" id="en-NIV-5092" style="background-color: white;"><span class="versenum" style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: top;"><b>Dueteronomy 6:5-7 </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span class="text Deut-6-5" style="background-color: white;">Love<span class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5092J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></span> the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> your God with all your heart<span class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5092K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></span> and with all your soul and with all your strength.<span class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5092L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span class="text Deut-6-6" id="en-NIV-5093" style="background-color: white;">These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts.<span class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5093M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span class="text Deut-6-7" id="en-NIV-5094" style="background-color: white;">Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.</span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(And when you play Legos with them, or when you are jamming on musical instruments, and when you coach their sports teams, or when you are wrestling in the dining room, and when...) </span>Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-53569675679991675732013-05-31T11:17:00.000-04:002013-06-16T14:32:17.556-04:00How I Decided I Was "Fat" - part 2So, the <a href="http://charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2013/03/how-i-decided-i-was-fat.html" target="_blank">last time I blogged about battling weight and my self-image</a>, I told you about my childhood and my detrimental first trip to the <strike>evil</strike> gynecologist before I got married at age 25.<br />
<br />
<b>Enter: The Child-bearing Years</b><br />
I gained 42 pounds with baby #1 and promptly lost it all.<br />
I even remember bragging about it a little. (Feel free to hate that Becky and know that it all came back to humble <strike>her</strike> me when <strike>she</strike> I quit nursing.)<br />
The battle of the bulge became real, so I joined my very first diet program. Within a few months, I got pregnant with baby #2 (because that's how it works) and I was "released" from the nuisance of dieting.<br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;">*sidenote: I did eat a lot more fruits and veggies with my second to avoid excessive weight gain...and he is the child that willingly eats salads...and broccoli...and cauliflower. Coincidence? I don't think so.</span><br />
<br />
When this new addition had his first birthday, Clay videotaped the party.<br />
We sat down that night to watch the recap and my mouth fell open, "Do I actually look like THAT?"<br />
Crushing blow. Tears. Motivation.<br />
I jumped right back on the weight-loss wagon.<br />
<br />
I actually LED a "diet" program for a while.<br />
It changed my life.<br />
Not only did I get thin, but it was a Christian-based program where I "had" to read my Bible everyday. (Since I was the leader and had to set a good example, I actually followed through.)<br />
I'd like to say that it changed my whole mentality toward weight...but it didn't.<br />
It did, however, show me the path of ACTUALLY getting to know God and His Word (which, I am convinced, is the <i>only</i> way I will ever achieve a <i>healthy</i> mindset about my temporary, physical body).<br />
<br />
<b>Then, a few years ago,</b> I got skinny.<br />
(Think: College years, I just lost my freshman twenty, skinny.)<br />
My grandma even mentioned that I should stop by her church and flaunt my new size to church-lady Ms. D who once told her she was "surprised that Becky let herself go."<br />
Even though I was thin when I heard about Mrs. D's remark, the comment stuck.<br />
I realized that others expected me to look like I did in high school...even after having babies....EVEN IN MY THIRTIES.<br />
Oh, you'd better believe I wanted to flaunt my new body to her! Of course the next time I actually saw her, I had gained my weight back (because that's how it works) and I ducked behind the corner when I saw her coming.<br />
<br />
Funny thing, I wasn't even happy when I was really skinny and "flauntable". I would look in the mirror at my thin frame and be transported back to junior high with all the flat-chested jokes that were thrown in my direction.<br />
<b>As a 38 year old</b>, I yearned for an extra 10 pounds so I could wear a grown-up size bra again.<br />
It was the wake-up call God used to start dealing with my vanity.<br />
No longer did I have ANY idea what weight was my "ideal"...and I <i>finally</i> started to realize that it didn't matter.<br />
<br />
My husband loves me most when I am confident and flirty. He has never cared where I landed on the roulette wheel that my scale had become. *bless him for not comparing me to other women even though I sometimes WANTED him to compare me to other women and tell me I was prettier...because I'm vain and shallow like that. Thankfully, he is not.*<br />
The qualities Clay desires in his wife can't be physically weighed.<br />
And gee, that is how God is too.<br />
Hmmm.<br />
God started overhauling my attitude and reminding me that my worth is SO MUCH MORE than a number on the scale.<br />
<br />
<b>Then a year ago,</b> I ended up in the office of a back surgeon because I couldn't get off the couch on my own and my legs gave out on me multiple times throughout each day. I had been struggling with back issues for a long time, but they finally started crippling me.<br />
What a learning opportunity.<br />
Looong story short, I have avoided back surgery through physical therapy and regular exercise. (And if I would do the <i>prescribed</i> back exercises I <i>should</i> be doing rather than the less boring exercises I choose to do, I might even get to the point where I could FLY...or at least jog....but that is a whole other blog.)<br />
<br />
<b>Now, I am forty</b>...and no one expects me to look like a supermodel. Not even me.<br />
My exercise and healthy diet are <i>finally</i> not about "needing" the approval of others by being thin.<br />
God ALLOWED my back issues (He did, my vertebra problems are congenital) and He had a plan for them - so I have leaned into Him and am trusting Him.<br />
<br />
I may not avoid back surgery indefinitely; but I thank God for my issues.<br />
You see, I had prayed, "Lord, help me exercise and eat right because it is THE RIGHT THING TO DO and not just because I am vain."<br />
God answered those prayers without snapping His fingers and changing my wants.<br />
He matured me instead.<br />
He uses <i>all</i> things for His glory and our good.<br />
<br />
Thanks to my bad back, my eyes were opened to the love that my husband and children are capable of having - as they helped me out of chairs and beds and stabilized me throughout each day.<br />
I am thankful for every pain-free moment.<br />
I would have taken those for granted had I not experienced the past few years.<br />
I sing praises when I bounce down the stairs to walk with my neighbors.<br />
<br />
Thank you, Lord, for providing perspective among worldly expectations.<br />
Thank you for being bigger than any struggle I might face.<br />
Thank you for one more proof in my life (and the lives of my family) that you are here, and that you are able.<br />
<a href="http://www.charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2012/06/goose-bumps.html" target="_blank">Jehovah Shammah</a>.Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-47149428234689446532013-03-22T05:14:00.003-04:002013-03-22T07:56:57.705-04:00We Drink Dead People?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/upvcfrontdoor/4642106949/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="recycle please by Coastline Windows & Conservatories, on Flickr"><img alt="recycle please" height="200" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4066/4642106949_9a869c2121.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/upvcfrontdoor/4642106949/in/photostream" target="_blank">Photo Credit</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Homeschooling Rassi boys leads to some interesting discussions...</b></div>
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<b>Evan:</b> Mom! Micah said we won't use up all the water in the world...but we CAN! Billions of people DRINK water so we might use it all up!<br />
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<b>Me:</b> No, he is correct. Water may get dirty or change forms, but it doesn't just disappear. Remember, we also sweat out water and pee. The Earth doesn't gain or lose matter, it just changes a bit during different processes. It all evens out.</div>
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<b>Evan:</b> The Earth DOES gain water. Our bodies are made up of 70% water, and BABIES are born! God makes babies and they grow and all that water is added to the world! People have babies ALL THE TIME.</div>
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<b>Me:</b> Yes, babies are made of water, but that doesn't mean water is added. They grow by taking water out of the world, but that doesn't mean that the world will run out of water either. You have to remember that people <i>die</i> too. Water from those bodies returns to the ground. It all balances out.</div>
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<b>Evan:</b> Oh yah. People do die all the time. Wait! *holding up his glass of water* Are you telling me that I'm drinking DEAD PEOPLE?</div>
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<b>Me:</b> Yes. Yes, that is what I'm telling you. Glad we got that all cleared up.</div>
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Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-66987666618848625602013-03-13T11:24:00.004-04:002013-06-16T14:34:23.443-04:00How I Decided I Was "Fat"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2013/03/10-reasons-ill-keep-being-girl.html" target="_blank">As I mentioned, I am on a diet. Again.</a><br />
<a href="http://www.charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2013/03/10-reasons-ill-keep-being-girl.html" target="_blank">At least this time, Clay is joining me (which has its good points and its bad points, but we won't get into that - again.)</a><br />
I am bound and determined that this will be the LAST time I ever diet. Ever.<br />
After this, I will thank God for an abundance of fruits and vegetables, exercise regularly, maintain self control, and eat treats only on special occasions.<br />
(Quit laughing and rolling your eyes. Oh wait! That's me.)<br />
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I have fought with my weight and my body-image for many years.<br />
It all began when I was in 6th grade...<br />
Actually, a LOT of my body image issues started in 6th grade - when all the other girls got boobs and I did not - but we'll save that for another blog.<br />
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Anywho...<br />
<b>In 6th grade</b>, prepubescent me started chubbing up a bit (compared to the stick-thin little girl I had always been). We went to visit my grandfather, and I heard him say (with a somewhat negative tone), "Becky is packing on the weight."<br />
Many questions and conversations followed over the next few days; and all of them started with me saying, "Mom, am I FAT?" <br />
I had much need for my mother's reassurance. Thankfully, she provided it.<br />
"Don't worry honey, if you were fat, I would tell you; and we would work together to make sure you were making healthy choices. You look good."<br />
She's such a good mom.<br />
<br />
<b>Then, in 8th grade</b>, we went to Delaware to visit my Aunt Belle.<br />
She was 4 ft. something and had arms the size of toothpicks. (I still didn't have boobs, but I was temporarily past thinking I was fat.) When that dear ol' teeny-tiny aunt gave me a hug, the words that exploded out of her mouth were, "Wow, you have thick arms!"<br />
As my face fell, my mom had to keep herself from hurling Aunt Belle across the room.<br />
Mom saw it coming. <br />
I have had issues about the size of my upper arms ever since.<br />
I don't wear sleeveless shirts.<br />
I say "no" to ADORABLE sleeveless dresses (unless I have a sweater to wear too.)<br />
You can imagine how this has <b>crippled</b> me in the fashion world.<br />
(Are you rolling your eyes again? Oh, wait, that's still me.)<br />
It's amazing how I let off-the-cuff comments of other people impact my fragile self-image.<br />
Can you say VANITY stinks?<br />
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<b>When I hit college</b>, my weight issues quit being a figment of <strike>other people's</strike> my imagination. I went to school and promptly gained the freshmen twenty. (No, it's not fifteen...I DEFINITELY gained twenty.)<br />
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I came home from my freshman year of college to this conversation:<br />
<b>Me:</b> Mom, are you wearing my jeans?<br />
<b>Mom:</b> Why yes! They are so cute. Is that OK? You left them here while you were at college, so I figured you didn't really care for them.<br />
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Poor Mom, she had no intentions of <strike>ruining my life</strike> upsetting me. She was wearing THE JEANS THAT I STUCK IN MY BOTTOM DRAWER BECAUSE I <i>LOVED</i> THEM TOO MUCH TO GET RID OF THEM, BUT THEY WERE WAY TOO SMALL BECAUSE I HAD GAINED 20 POUNDS.<br />
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I dieted for the first time that summer and started the VERY LONG, NEVER ENDING battle I've had with food.<br />
In three months, I literally walked my butt off.<br />
I walked three miles a day while jamming to "Love of a Lifetime" on a mixed tape from my boyfriend (who, ironically, didn't last 6 more months). I also waited tables at Parasson's Italian Restaurant. (Yes, I lost weight while smelling Italian food for 30-40 hours a week. I was motivated and ate tuna fish most of that summer.)<br />
My mom was NOT going to be thinner than me. Even though she is 3 inches shorter and quite thin, it was NOT acceptable to 19 year old me. My mom was OLD, after all, like FORTY. Ha!<br />
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<b>Six years later...</b><br />
I was getting married and had to go to a doctor to get birth control pills. I had never been to a gynecologist before, so this was <strike>hell on earth</strike> a bit of a traumatic trip for me.<br />
I walked into the office at 4:00 in the afternoon (wearing jeans, a sweater, chunky brown shoes and maybe even a coat), and I jumped right on the scale with no qualms (and with ALL those clothes on). I was there for birth control pills, not a weight consultation; plus, I knew I was healthy and thin. (I caught me a very picky, very handsome man, after all).<br />
I still know <i>exactly</i> how much I weighed that afternoon. It is burned on my brain. I have since looked at weight charts and found that I was indeed in the healthy range for my height. In fact, I was just about "ideal", but the <strike>horrible man</strike> doctor that I saw that day looked me right in the eye (after making me VERY uncomfortable looking at other parts of me) and told me that I needed to lose 5 pounds.<br />
FIVE POUNDS!!<br />
Can you see the shock on 25-year-old Becky's face?<br />
If I could do it over, I would show up first-thing the next morning with an empty stomach and wearing a sports bra and spandex. I would jump on that office scale and yell, "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED, YOU JACKWAGON!" - then give him a dissertation on the damage he is doing to poor unsuspecting women.<br />
But my young, going-to-get-married-and-have-a-man-see-me-naked brain could only hear, "LOSE FIVE POUNDS". So, I started walking again. I didn't manage to lose the weight, but that little trip to the doctor helped solidify the concept that anything above the "ideal" meant that I was fat.<br />
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Well, this is getting a bit long and I'm still only in my twenties on this journey. That means I have almost twenty more years of warped thinking and crash diets to share with you. <a href="http://www.charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2013/02/armpits.html" target="_blank">Since I will no longer write a blog series</a>, we'll see if I actually get around to sharing them.<br />
I still struggle with a lot of warped thinking, but I am slowly looking to God to give Him glory in my health rather than comparing myself with the world. I am also learning to focus on my purpose in this world - and that it has NOTHING to do with my vanity or what other people think of my current size.<br />
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*Er, at least I THINK I've made some progress (says the gal who is currently boycotting sugar and putting on shoes to go walking...)<br />
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Update: I DID write a second part! <a href="http://charliebrownteacher.blogspot.com/2013/05/how-i-decided-i-was-fat-part-2.html" target="_blank">How I Decided I Was Fat: Part 2</a>Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-57830765299839874412013-03-08T09:26:00.003-05:002013-03-13T21:02:49.637-04:00Accidental Pharisee<span style="font-family: inherit;">My Sunday school class has been discussing the book <i>Accidental Pharisee</i> by Lawrence Osborne. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few concepts from the book have lodged themselves in my brain - which OBVIOUSLY means I need to blog about them (until a different <strike>shiny object</strike> deep thought distracts me.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last week, I kept thinking about Osborne's statement that, "God has always drawn straight lines with crooked sticks" (page 130, Chapter 14). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Bible is full of God-centered men who climbed through some VERY big screw ups in the Bible - and their mistakes were written down for all eternity. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">God used those sinful moments of not-so-perfect men to teach, to bring change, and to make them into testimonies of His faithfulness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I can get a bit crooked at times, but I like the reminder that God will still use me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This week, we discussed </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Unity vs. Uniformity"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He wrote about how we can be unified in Christ without all being the same, and even without AGREEING on many different topics. </span>All Christians are of ONE church...but we don't always act that way. We too often think everyone should be the same. We try to force Uniformity - and end up dividing ourselves. We tend to spend time with the people that think like us, worship like us, and baptize like us.<br />
Until they don't anymore...then we decide they are heretics.<br />
Listen to this joke. It makes the same point that the book makes...but it's funnier.<br />
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To paraphrase Osborne's point that I keep chewing on:<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We are brothers and sisters in Christ. It doesn't mean that we are going to always agree and always get along...it just means that we are family, and must bear with each other in love. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">-------------</span><br />
Family DOESN'T always get along, but they (normally) keep showing up to the Christmas get-togethers.<br />
We are stuck with each other, so we must lean into grace...and love each other anyway.<br />
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I want to be like that.<br />
I don't care if you are Pentecostal, Brethren, Traditional, Modern, or anti-"church"-while-still-being-a- disciple-of-Christ.<br />
If you call yourself a Christian, then you're family.<br />
(Actually, if you aren't Christian, I'm going to treat you like family as well.)<br />
I don't want to focus on how each of us might be a little "crooked".<br />
Instead, I want to work together to seek God and let HIM make our paths straight.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red;">Ephesians 4:2-6</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Eph-4-2" id="en-NIV-29275" style="background-color: white;">Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29275D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup> in love.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29275E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup></span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span class="text Eph-4-3" id="en-NIV-29276" style="background-color: white;"><sup class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;"> </sup>Make every effort to keep the unity<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29276F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup> of the Spirit through the bond of peace.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29276G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup></span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span class="text Eph-4-4" id="en-NIV-29277" style="background-color: white;">There is one body<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29277H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup> and one Spirit,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29277I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup> just as you were called to one hope when you were called<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29277J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></sup>;</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span class="text Eph-4-5" id="en-NIV-29278" style="background-color: white;">one Lord,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29278K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup> one faith, one baptism;</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span class="text Eph-4-6" id="en-NIV-29279" style="background-color: white;">one God and Father of all,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29279L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup> who is over all and through all and in all. </span></span><br />
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<br />Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8073388874370843409.post-9053348472154670112013-03-05T09:21:00.002-05:002013-03-06T17:01:40.780-05:0010 Reasons I'll Keep Being a Girl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.exitrealworld.com/tools_v2/resources/9e55471ba84686ade677ffe595c45992/upload_images/VAN0313-vans-big-school-shoes-mini-check-lining-fanny-pink-true-white.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.exitrealworld.com/tools_v2/resources/9e55471ba84686ade677ffe595c45992/upload_images/VAN0313-vans-big-school-shoes-mini-check-lining-fanny-pink-true-white.png" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such cute little PINK. GIRL. SHOES. <br />(good thing)</td></tr>
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Clay started dieting 5 days after me.<br />
He has lost 10 pounds.<br />
I have lost 5.<br />
If being a girl didn't have it's own perks, I'd quit right now.<br />
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Since I want to quit being a girl at least once a month, I have decided to make a "Top Ten" list of reasons that I like being THE girl in my house of boys.<br />
<ol>
<li><b>All the boys at my house smell worse than I do</b> (especially the big one). Sometimes it's on purpose, sometimes...not so much. Either way, I'm really glad I stink less than them.</li>
<li><b>I don't have to lift heavy things. Ever.</b> This includes suitcases, coolers loaded with ice, and shovels full of snow from the driveway. My 'men' are always willing to flex their muscles and take care of this little lady. (This may be part of the reason I haven't lost as much weight as Clay, but let's not discuss that.)</li>
<li><b>Boys tend to be hairy. </b>My husband has to shave his face daily. Since his hands are more calloused than mine (and he isn't very observant) I can get away with shaving my legs a bit less often (which doesn't even require a sharp blade scraping my FACE). I also rarely get haircuts (long hair). Actually, my boys rarely get haircuts either; but that's because Clay tells them that "You gotta have long hair to play in a band!" Clay, on the other hand, gets his haircut often (even the few that keep sprouting on top of his head).</li>
<li><b>Girls have way cuter</b> <b>shoes and coats</b>. WAY CUTER!!! Enough said.</li>
<li><b>Purses.</b> Not one of my guys carries a purse. I like purses. I always have what I need right there with me, and I never get too fat for the purse to 'fit'. (Honestly, this is one reason I like shoes and coats too...you can gain 20 or 30 pounds and still feel adorable in the same cute pair of shoes, coat and purse that you had when you were "thin".).</li>
<li>In this house, being a girl means<b> I get to <strike>blame</strike> submit to Clay for the big decisions</b>. He carries a lot of the pressure that goes along with being a family. I get to spout opinions, encourage our gang toward the truth of God, and trust Clay to listen when something worthwhile pops out of me. He, on the other hand, gets the responsibility of leading us. Sometimes I really like that his logical, less reactionary brain has that role. (And I know if I was a man that I would probably have a less emotionally driven brain...but I LIKE my emotions.)</li>
<li>Speaking of emotions...<b>I am the one that my boys come to for sentimentality</b>. They snuggle me (probably because I'm soft due to the weight I can't lose - and less muscle-y due to never lifting anything). They have me <strike>kiss their boo-boos</strike> tend to their injuries, and they also know I will encourage them when they are hurting (instead of telling them to "wipe some dirt on it and get back in the game"). I get to experience a softer side of them that men don't always get to see. </li>
<li><b>My 10 year old opens doors for me.</b> Not sure where he learned this GREAT idea. He must have been watching out the window one of the 4 times a year that Clay and I go on a date. He is much more likely to let a door hit Clay in the face because it is funny than open it for him. Definitely a benefit to being a girl.</li>
<li><b>I don't have to climb ladders or get on rooftops because my "big, fearless men can do it".</b> I accrued a fear of heights sometime around the age of 25. My husband has no such fear. And my youngest would have jumped from the top of the refrigerator to the floor when he was not yet walking if he could have gotten away with it. (Wait! If he wasn't walking, how did he get on top of the refrigerator? My husband put him there.) Just today, the little one was volunteering to go up in the attic above the garage and chase down mice...as long as he got to climb the ladder. </li>
<li>I texted a girlfriend that I wanted to quit being a woman. I won't tell you her name because she might be mortified when I tell you that she texted this back: "<b>Men have to deal with unintentional erections.</b>" I laughed out loud; and in one fell swoop, she convince me that I should indeed stay on my current team.</li>
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This post is linked to <a href="http://www.manylittleblessings.com/2013/03/10-duplicate-songs-on-my-iphone-and-which-i-like-best/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+ManyLittleBlessings+%28Many+Little+Blessings%29" target="_blank">Many Little Blessings Top Ten</a></div>
Becky@CharlieBrownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03124299328123305857noreply@blogger.com2