Don’t Be a Duck!

I just arrived home from a crazy week… which is a story in and of itself… it consisted of an impromptu cross country drive (sans hubby!) with 6 kiddos, attending my sweet grandmas funeral, celebrating sons birthday, putting another son on a plane with hubby to New York, driving across the state to speak at education week, then picking up hubby and son at airport and driving back across the country.  Whew!!

As I have been trying to re-enter life here in mommyhood, I have still kept a bit of the education week buzz.  You know, the one you get when you sit in a class and they say something that suddenly resonates with you so deep that you know it’s God way of telling you that he put those words into the speakers mouth just so you would finally hear his promptings.

Usually that high stays with me for a good week… until I get right back into my routine and keep putting the incredible inner ‘blings’ I had at education week on the “yeah, I’ve got to get on that sometime…” to-do list.

In short, after soaring at education week, I come home and start walking again…. much like these ducks:


There was once a town called Duckville.  Everyone there was a duck.  There were duck teachers, duck grocers, duck doctors, duck lawyers.  And everyone in Duckville always walked everywhere he went.  That was, until the day two out-of-town ducks arrived.

They were very enterprising visitors.  First they rented the local gymnasium and then they put up posters all around town which read, “Come to the gym tonight.  See a flying demonstration.  Fun for all.”

The residents of Duckville were intrigued over the flying idea.  They turned out in mass to see what the visiting ducks had to show them.  They were excited to learn a new way to move from place to place.  And all of them learned to fly that evening.  They spent hours and hours flying around the gym.  When the program ended, they thanked the out-of-town ducks.  And then all of them walked home.

Don’t Be a Duck!


So here’s to a commitment to dig in and make the changes that I vowed I would do while sitting, inspired and enlightened at education week!


Say the Pink One!

My three year old came skipping into the room, her blond curls bobbing up and down, her purple ‘chip stick’ carefully applied all over her lip… area, and two sweaters in hand.

liz 1


“Mommy, which sweater should I wear?”









I surveyed the scene… hot pink and brown leopard shirt, green shorts, purple lips… and and said, “I think you should wear the white one.”

To which she quickly replied:liz 2

“No, mommy, say the pink one!”

To which I thought something like, “well, if you knew what you wanted, why did you ask me?”

and then said, “Okay… wear the pink one…”




I laughed as she skipped off, happily donning the pink sweater.

Then it hit me.

How many times do I approach my Dad (the one with the capital D), and ask,

“Father, which one would you have me do?”  When all I am really saying is, “Say the pink one!”  Am I really opening myself up to what God’s will truly is for me?  Or am I trying to hodge podge my life together (which in the eternal scheme of thing may look very much like a pink and brown shirt with green shorts and purple lip stick!)… only to ask God which covering would help bring it all together, and then trying to tell HIM what he should tell ME??!

I’m sad to say that I do that more often than I care to admit.

So here’s to another trial of getting on my knees and listening… really listening to what HIS will is for me, and then forming my life to that pattern… instead of the other way around.

Riding the Rapids

I took a leadership class.  When we started reading the given book, I have to admit, I didn’t really relate – it was based almost solely on leading in the business world, and in my life of diapers and drippy noses, I am far from the business world, nor do I have any desire to enter the business leadership realm.

But I kept reading.  And so glad that I did.

There was a part in there that talked about leaders feeling like the company should be acting like a placid lake.  They hit rapids every once in a while, but then will get back to the placid lake.  Most leaders are constantly striving to lead in the lake, but the authors brought out the reality… they have to learn to lead in the rapids, because the RAPIDS, not the lake, are in fact the norm.

This paragraph hit me like a ton of bricks.  I suddenly realized that all of the discontentment that I have been feeling lately was trying (in vain) to find the placid lake.

Life in motherhood is exactly like riding the rapids.

It’s great, and exciting, but also unpredictable and ever changing.  And forever forcing us forward at breakneck speed.

And the more time I spend trying to recapture the lake, the more frustrated I will be.

So I have given up the search for the placid lake.  Instead, I give in to the notion that each day is going to be a crazy ride, so I may as well buck up and enjoy it while it lasts.

So now, when people ask me how things are going… my response is to smile just a bit and say,

“Riding the rapids, baby.  Riding the Rapids.”

I see…

My vision …

Christmas O.D.

I have been shying away from writing this post for the whole week now. It has been very hard for me to process how I have felt this Christmas, and if I even wanted to share these raw, uncut feelings… in other words, reader beware, very weird post to follow.  Consider yourself warned…

This Christmas was really different for me.

Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE Christmas.

I love the traditions.

I love the memories it instills from my own childhood.

I love seeing my kids faces light up at the magical wonderland that replaces our living room for a brief moment as they experience the magic of Santa and gifts and toys.

I love having lessons about the birth of Christ, and the potential which that lesson holds for all of us.

In fact, I usually fire up the Christmas music about august and let it play clear up until Christmas day has come to an end.


… This year started out similar

With music

and traditions

and secret service elf projects for the kids

and lessons about Christ

and ‘sightings’ of reindeer

and all of the magic that Christmas enfolds.

By the end of Christmas day, however,

I felt really…


Kind of like the feeling you get right after Thanksgiving dinner, knowing full well that you shouldn’t have eaten that extra bite of pumpkin pie, or potatoes, or stuffing, or … well you get the idea.

Only this feeling at the end of Christmas was with stuff.

Because in the end, that is what all of the gifts and toys and stocking stuffers amounted to be.


I can’t blame it on the kids, they actually didn’t ask for much

I can’t blame it on over spending, because a majority of what I found was a product of sales, coupons, closeouts, etc.

… well, maybe that was part of it now that I think about it – throughout the year, there were so many things that I picked up for our ‘gift box’ that were on such great closeout deals, that I ‘ear marked’ for Christmas, that by the time everything was laid out, it just seemed to be overkill.  And that was even with keeping back a whole 2 boxes for birthdays throughout the coming year.  With coupons, I failed to follow the simple rule given by a wise college professor:  just because something can be done, doesn’t mean that it should be done. (or in my case, just because a deal can be made, doesn’t mean that is should be made).

I ended the day feeling like I actually did a disservice for my children in teaching them about what Christmas is all about.

… Maybe it was that they didn’t quite show the level of excitement that I was anticipating (perhaps from being a little bit overloaded by ‘just one more’ toy being added to their pile??!)

… maybe it was that by the time we got to our big family gift, it was kind of a ‘monty python’ rejoicing moment (read:  a bit underwhelming)

… maybe it was that my shoes were too tight, or my heart was 2 sizes too small…

Whatever the reason, I just went to bed that night feeling,


with stuff.

In the end, a picture that has been floating around the internet just following black Friday (a day that I usually LOVE, mind you!) kept coming to my mind and haunting me:

For some reason, I can’t seem to get this out of my mind.

Nor get the punch out of my gut.

I have physically seen similar faces to those on the children in the left.

And as hard as it is to admit, I have seen myself in the picture on the right all too many times.

How can I teach my kids about true service when I am constantly stocking us up on stuff??


… Usually these types of posts come with a plan and a resolve to change the world, or start some new plan of action, something that will suddenly teach my children all about world-wide service and unselfishness.

But not this one.  I haven’t gotten that far yet.

For now, I am just letting it stew.

The uncomfortableness.  The fullness.  The need to change the game plan just a little bit. Or maybe a lot.

I’m not sure what that game plan will be, exactly.

Just that I know it needs to change.

And it will.

But for now, a Merry Christmas to all,

And to all a good night!