Every. Time. PERIOD. (unless you're the church)

Please, listen...then read.

Matthew West - Grace Wins (Audio) - YouTube

Matthew West - Grace Wins (Audio)

Matthew West - Grace Wins (Audio) Official audio for “Grace Wins” by Matthew West Get the album LIVE FOREVER here: http://smarturl.it/MWLiveForeve...

I was running errands today.  

The song came on by Mark West / Grace Wins. 

I was propelled into a whirlwind of thought.

The following is not for sympathy.  

It's not to share 'my' side or even to persuade you to 'take' my side (my motto - there are THREE sides to every story: mine, yours and the truth, yes?)

It's not to bash anyONE or group.  

It's simply information about what I have faced over the past few months (with a touch of my personality).

If you'd like to ask questions or get further clarification, please PM me.  

I'm so grateful...thank you!!!

For those of you that do not know or may be catching up, my divorce was final at the end of July and I bought a condo around the same time.  I made tough choices (beginning in December), choices that SEVERAL people had strong opinions about, pastors intervened with 'counseling' and choices that impacted my girls and their dad.  

At about the same time (end of July), the church I had know for ten years, held a meeting with 30+ community group members.  During the meeting they advised / directed those people to 'unfriend me on FB', 'that I was not allowed at any homegroup, community group, or any other church-specific hosted events' (of course, if I am found to be on campus to pick up my girls, be cordial - of course, don't be 'unchristian <tsk, tsk>', but know that she is not welcome or allowed).  

One person asked, "What if we run into her at, say, Kroger?"  Mmmm...yes, well, "Make the conversation restorative in nature and ALWAYS communicate that Senior Pastor is willing to meet with a 'biblical plan of restoration."  

"What about the girls?"  MMmmm...yes, another tricky conundrum...  "Continue to love on them (of course!), but not in such a way that would imply what Kimberly did was 'ok' or that you support her choices."  People were advised, "Do not invite her to lunch or coffee or dinner or the movies...do nothing that would imply you SUPPORT her decision to divorce." (this coming from a church that HARPS on relationships).

I could not make this up and wouldn't believe it if I hadn't heard it with my own two ears.

So...the short of it is:  I was banished from the church I knew because I divorced without 'biblical grounds'...sigh.  True.  I did not leave based on any unfaithfulness or any violence or any substance abuse.  

I gotta say, it has not been easy.  

(Which, I'm sure, delights those that are on board with how this was handled). 

But it hasn't been difficult because this particular church congregation did what they did.  It has been difficult because I've bumbled through separating God from People.  THAT has been the hurdle.  

See, the bottom line is that this is between myself and God.  Period.

Apparently, had I visited this church while in the midst of my pain and angst, I would've been welcomed with open arms.  HOWEVER, because I was a member and 'knew better' they reserved the right to banish me.  I do not say 'ask me to leave' because they have yet to notify me that I am 'officially' on the 'Most Wanted'...well, 'Most UN-Wanted list'.  I learned all of this via a recording of the PRIVATE meeting ABOUT me.

BUT....I digress...THAT is all back story.  This post was provoked by the song from earlier.  

  

'Grace wins every time...'  

EVERYtime.  

I'm certainly no SCHOLAR of the scriptures; I am, however a DAUGHTER of ABBA, and I've read enough, heard enough and been around enough to KNOW that, while He may not like my CHOICE, He still likes and even LOVES me.  I've searched and searched (yes, shocking...again.  I HAVE been in the word and I DO still pray) and have yet to find where JESUS did this...held a meeting, instructed people to ex-communicate a member. WAIT...there was that time in...nope.  Just kidding.  I cannot say the same about the church.

Here's the most baffling part - we ALL read the SAME bible.  And SOMEWHERE they find scripture to support and distort and JUSTIFY this sort of practice.  Oh...I'd seen it before me. I knew full well what was coming. Yet, I still made my choice.  A choice that cost me a few relationships.  (Note, not 'friendships' because if they had been ACTUAL friends, while they may not like my choices / my LIFE, they'd still be around and, there are still a few that think for themselves and can separate the two - THANK YOU for loving me, regardless).

I'll also add, the amount of compassion I've cultivated is beyond what I would've ever learned had I stayed where I was.  I often joke(ed) that my spiritual gift was judging.  

Can I just say?  You do NOT know what anyONE is facing, struggling with or battling.  If you're privy enough to be TOLD or they choose to share it with you, count it a humble blessing; an OPPORTUNITY to pray with them, love on them and walk with them through it. Even in their sharing you STILL cannot grasp the depth of pain.  

And if you think cutting them out of your life is necessary, then that is well within your right. Perhaps you think that it is an act of 'tough love'. Ok.  Then you probably didn't need them in the first place. The relationship was probably surface, at best.  (BTW, I know that there is a place for tough love...this was not one of them).

I would encourage you to reflect and consider:  You.  Do.  NOT.  Know how or what YOU would do in any given situation.  You may THINK you know, but please...don't be so high and mighty; so RIGHTEOUS.

I'm reeling a little, I'm healing even more.
Day by day gets better and better.
I owe none of my progress to the church I attended.
I owe a great deal of my thread-of-faith to where I work and the women that just...love me.
I owe it to God, the one I've CLUNG to since December.
I owe it to the new church I attend
      (and yes, they know the whole thing...and shocking, love me anyway).
I owe it to the friends that have continued to 'friend' me on FB and continue to reach out, even in my mess.  

Humbled, Buoyed and Blessed
And may you be filled with HIS love, light and peace

Mama Fox

It's the 'WHAT', overlook the 'HOW'

* * I've changed the names of various people / places * *

Those that know me know the details

Some of you may or may not know, but I volunteer every Friday at a local charity that helps those that are down on their luck and (let's be honest) some that have managed to make several poor choices that has led them to our place. Every service offered (medical, dental, clothing, furniture, etc) is free of charge. Another side of this charity is to schedule donation pick ups.  Those that are cleaning out closets, moving, upgrading, etc. that choose to donate their items, call in and this organization picks it up. 

Protocol is to have folks come in for a face-to-face, because the heart of this organization is to share the gospel.  My role is to simply answer the phone and give people the information they need or get the information WE need to help them.  More often than not, I'm scheduling donations to be picked up.

I've been at this for almost 8 years and after 8 years one tends to get a little...well, shall we say, indifferent to those calling for assistance.  I'm only given so much 'authority' to DO anything for these folks.  That is the policy at this organization, because I do NOT know back stories.  I'm only there a few hours a week. There have been times my heart breaks for a particular caller, I inform someone that is on staff, only to hear, 'Oh yes...they've called EVERYday this week...x, y, z.'

Are you tracking with me so far?

Stay with me.

About one month ago, I was having a great day.  I was pulling off a fairly cute outfit, it was a good hair day, I'd stopped for coffee, hugged the barista into a better day and even bought breakfast for the 'regular' homeless guy that I see each week.

It.

Was.

An.

AWESOME morning!!!

I was in tune with God.  

The birds were singing.  

I mean, prett-ee sweet start to the day. 

I get the first call.

"Hello, my name is Virginia Smith.  I called yesterday to get some assistance.  I need food and some medicine.  I'm pretty sure I spoke to you and you had said to call back after 3p and I just...time got away from me and I didn't get around to it. Anyway..."

I did not inform her at that moment that there was no way she spoke to me, as I'm only there on Friday's.  She continues on - and this happens lot.  People call and launch into their stories, leaving no space / breath / room to respond.

"Anyway...I have a disabled husband.  Four foster kids and I was just wondering if someone could bring us some food."

"Ma'am, we normally require people to come in, onsite." I say

"I understand, but as I explained yesterday, and I'm sure you were the one I spoke to, that I can't. I have no way of coming in."

I hear this often.  This charity does provide take food to shut-ins, but it is rare. It is case-by-case and it's done if the manpower is available.  

"Ok (as chipper as I can muster).  Well, I wasn't here yesterday, so it wasn't me that took your call.  What I can do is get your information and I'll pass it along to the one that can make those arrangements."  <you must understand, I wasn't at all snarky or rude, as it may seem by reading this.  I was simply...let's say, as earlier, indifferent. Bored, even.>

"You're right.  It wasn't you.  The voice yesterday was much friendlier."

Ouch.

Silence.

She continues to lay into me and give me an earful.  From I-don't-know-what it's-like-to-call-for-help, to fostering kids, to not knowing what it's like to have an elderly husband that is disabled and everything in between.  I'm sure she threw in there 'you think you're so entitled' and 'get off your high horse' was thrown in there too.  

So much for the birds singing and good hair day...sigh

One conversation in my head was saying,

"Who do you think you are lady? You've no idea who I am.  I've a HEART for those in need.  Just this morning I bought breakfast for our local homeless dude.  How do YOU know that I don't know what it's like to ask for help?!  How DARE you!!  You DO realize I have your address and phone number!  And do you know I have some GREAT hair going on today?!  Some. Nerve. Lady."

The other conversation in my head went something like this, 

'She's right.  I've absolutely no idea what it's like to be in her position.  I've never fostered.  I'm not married to a handicap man nor an elderly one <well...haha, just kidding>.  It has to be super humbling, even embarrassing to call and ask for assistance.  AND this is NOT about me.  While I may be a catalyst with my 'tone,' bottom line is that she doesn't know anything about me and she's in a tough place.' 

I knew this second conversation was more accurate.  

I also knew that anything short of an apology would do nothing but make the situation worse.  So I said,

"Ma'am, I apologize that my voice isn't 'friendlier' <I mmmaaayyy have emphasized 'friendlier'>.  I have adopted a 'to the point / dry' demeanor because the sooner I get your information, the sooner you get the help you need."

Round Two.

Definitely not about me, she's having a very. bad. day.

We wrap it up, she hangs up on me (of course) and I weep.  

Sob. 

This hit me hard.  

I knew knew knew it was her circumstances.  I knew to my core that I absolutely care about those less fortunate.

Yet, I cried. 

Maybe she was right.  Maybe I had become callous and too serious with people.

I really did contemplate what she'd said.  While HOW she said it was awful and mean, the things she said about my voice* - did they resonate? COULD I sound friendlier to these people brave enough to pick up a phone and say, "I need help." ?

* * * * Fast forward to Good Friday * * * *

I'm back at this charity.  I'm mindlessly sipping coffee, writing something down and the phone rings.

"Charity-that-helps-people.  How may I help you?"

"Hello, my name is Virginia Smith...

Sound of a record screeching to a stop.

Gut wrench and my tummy drops to my toes.

Is. It. Possible???

She continues, and minus the 'I spoke to you yesterday', she retells the same story, adding that around the 20th, things get really tight, she now has five foster kids, etc.  

I get her information and then ask, "Are you feeling better?"

"Uhm...yes, I...uhm...the impacted tooth still hurts, but that's at the bottom of my priority."

"Well, a few weeks ago, you called in and proceeded to give me an earful about my tone / demeanor on the phone.  I want you to know that it made a big impact on me.  Since then I have been intentional and keenly aware of how I sound.  While I didn't like the delivery, I did have to consider what you said.  I want to apologize AND thank you."

I only got about half of this out and she started to gush. Apologizing herself, sorry if she'd hurt my feelings, she had been having a really bad day.  She thanked me for the fortitude and maturity in even admitting A) that it was me and B) indeed!  I did sound friendly!!

Towards the end, and both of us almost crying, I said, 

"Virginia, I do not find it coincidental that it is Good Friday.  This is absolutely a God moment.  I'm so so glad you called and please know that you've come to mind several times.  Each time I pray(ed). I'm so glad that you called today.  You're very brave to ask for help - that takes courage."

We said our good-byes, hung up.

And I wept again.

The peace, gratefulness and humility that washed over me was indescribable.  I was SO SO grateful that I'd been given that opportunity to learn and to thank my teacher appointed at that time, a few weeks prior.  I get misty-eyed thinking about it.  

Maybe that is my point here.  Every person, every situation, is an opportunity to learn.  Regardless of the 'delivery'.  I've said for a very long time, God always has my best interest at heart and sometimes He uses the Virginia Smith's to deliver.

Humbled, buoyed and blessed, 

MamaFox

*I dismissed the other things she said, because I know better in my heart-of-hearts.  I focused strictly on what she said about my voice, because truth be told, that is all she really 'knew' about me at that time.

 

 

My 42 year old 7th grader

No, I am not currently in 7^th grade.

No, I did not get held back.  Although, it might look that way given my horrible grammar and punctuation offenses. 

And no, my 7^th grader does not possess the maturity level of a 42 year old (20-something on some days and 2-something on others…take your pick).

So maybe it should read ‘My INNER 42 year old 7^th grader’ – that’s probably more accurate. 

Quite frankly, I am feeling a little duped here.  I completed 7^th grade…let’s just say, a long time ago, ok?  I, as I like to say, 'did my time'.  I dealt with ‘mean girls’, I got made fun of by the boys, and lemme tell ya - being a redhead back in those days, was just one more source of material to be ridiculed.  Much scarring BUT, I am no worse for the wear.  My baggage coordinates and I've had years of counseling - HA!!!  Suffice it to say, I have had my share of feeling awkward and left out, not being included in the ‘cool’ stuff. 

Did. Done. Over. 

Thank you very much.

BUT WAIT!!!!  I have a 7^th grader now!  

And 

What. 

A. 

JOY it is to RELIVE it all! 

O. M. W!!!

It’ll be a miracle if either of us live through this. 

But I digress.  

It’s a shame really.  You graduate from high school, you think, “Aahhh…finally.  I can redefine who I am!  Goodbye to Buffy (I didn’t even change her name to protect her.  Buffy.  That. Was. Her NAME!!!!  Good heavens).  Good bye Trent, you studly jock who will be bald at our 10-year reunion!!  Good. Bye.” 

And I’m sure they’re off, living their lives (wait, let me get their FB status…just kidding).  I imagine Buffy is no longer a cheerleader and Trent, indeed, lost some of his hair.  THAT SAID, now it’s Meg’s, the Shelby’s and the Lucy’s (these names WERE changed – they are children for peet’s sake).  It never occurred to me that the mean girls and the jocky-jocks would REPRODUCE and (sheesh o’ live) raise miniature versions of themselves!  And why not?  That’s what I am doing!!! 

Let me tell you – it’s one thing to go through it and be on THIS side of the equation.  It is quite another to WATCH your child wallow through the mucky-much of it all.  Truly gut wrenching.  The exclusions from the ‘cool’ kid outings, to listen to what the mean girls say to your child, not to mention what she overhears those girls say to other kids.  Dare I say, it’s like living through it all over again.  Hence, The 42 year old 7th Grader.  Ouch.

And there in lies the beauty of it all.  While I want to punch the occasional adolescent in the face for their ignorant behavior, or when I exercise self-control while I try NOT to roll my eyes at the umpteenth story on the latest crush (gag me), I can provide the wisdom and hope for my 7^th grader.  She welcomes it so well too, she loves to listen to my inspirational droning...sigh (just kidding…she, too, humors me in listening and is working on that whole self-control of the eye rolling – hee hee)

Let me just say – parenting is NOT for sissy’s.  It is a fine balance between the mama bear that wants to roar on up to the school and tell the Meg/Shelby/Lucy what their dismal future will be if they continue to generate such negativity.  But the real kicker is that THEY are muddling through it too! They just are not doing it very nicely AND it's at the expense of my child, yes??  (And here's another question - does THEIR mom think / know that they're raising the mean girl?)  

Being a mom to my three girls and having the adult relationship I have now with my own, the whole thing is quite…beautiful.

How did MY mom not want to cut my life short on a DAILY basis?  I was ten times worse than my kiddo.

How did she watch and have to just…well, watch, as I figured it all out?

It’s one thing to watch your baby get their bearing, figure out those legs as they learn to walk and take a few falls.  A few tears, kisses to make it all better.  It’s quite another to walk with your pre-teen through the matters of the heart, as they work it all out, take a few falls – kisses are all well and good, but for the life of me…it hurts.  It hurts to watch, but oh so necessary.

And I love it.  (most days – let’s not get too la-dee-dah here, I’m a realist!)

I once heard somewhere… I GET TO!!  I GET TO go through this with my girls.  It IS hard. There ARE days I think my eyes WILL get stuck in the back of my own head!  And yet, I was the one assigned, hand-picked, if you will, to help these three, precious girls.  

What' is even better - I get to simultaneously kiss bruised knees AND bruised hearts!!!  

Muddling through...

Humbled, buoyed and blessed -

Mama Fox

Get To

Several years ago I started asking people, "What do you get to do 40 hours a week?" And they would give me a funny look. It would take them that split second to process the question, "OH!  You mean, where do I work / what do I do for a living?" 

Well, ok, where do you work?

Then, when I started asking women, "Do you get to work outside of the home or do you get to stay home?" Again...perplexed.

What is this 'GET TO' nonesense that you speak of?

Now, I'm not a complete la-lee-la head. I realize that there are those of us out there that 'have to' work in order make ends meet.  (Truth be told, probably most of us).  Many of us don't live, like in the Secret Life of Walter Mitty (a FANTASTIC movie, if you've not yet seen it - go. Now. Go watch it. It is WONDERFUL!!  And be sure to look for all of the hidden messages!)

But, I digress. 

As I was saying, most of us cannot just up and live out our life dreams (for example, I'm to old to audition for So You Think You Can Dance and taking off to New York in order to live out a dance career on Broadway seems a little, uhm, radical. Pursuing culinary school sounds pretty dreamy (and expensive), however, as you might recall two posts ago, I got knocked up in 2012...just. sayin'.). Those of you out there that 'get to' live your life in a complete-and-total-choosing kind of way, hats off to you! However, those of us that are working the 9 - 5 grind, may I encourage you to take a different approach to your mindset? If not the 9 - 5 grind, perhaps you're the mom-at-home wondering how on God's green earth changing another diaper is going to change the world for the greater good!? I understand all to well. But, do you realize that YOU are the one that 'gets to' change that diaper? YOU are the one that 'gets to' work that 9 - 5? 

No one else. 

YOU.

And then there are the daily encounters we have, encounters that we 'get to' be a part of.

Recently, I was on the interstate, griping about the incredibly bumpy road. "UGH! I can't wait until they get this road paved!!" Immediately my thoughts were taken to dusty, dirt, pot-holed roads around the world. Ah...I 'get to'  drive on this bumpy road.

Not again. Food order / coffee order wrong?! Wait...I 'get to' eat / drink this food / coffee. People, merely blocks away, do not have the luxury of a meal, let alone your pricey coffee. Reel it in Fox.

5:30a...ugh...I'm so tired!! I just want to sleep...wait...I 'get to' get up at this hour, in my home, with a/c. Somewhere, there are people without homes, be it loss to fire, storm, flood, or some other disaster. I am prett-ee fortunate.

I've nothing to wear!!! Everything is so out of date!!! (sigh) Wait...I 'get to' have an abundance of choices. It's not that I don't have anything to wear, it is that I'm overwhelmed with a ridiculous amount of choices. (now, out of date...that may very well be true, but the 80's ARE making a come back. I'm sure of it!! HAHAHA!!)

Trust me, I've not mastered this skill set. I complain and gripe on a fairly regular basis (I'm pretty sure it's one of my spiritual gifts - ha!).  Yet, if I can, just once or twice, during a day turn my tune from 'I have to..." to "I get to...", I will feel a smidge successful in transforming my mindset.

And on that note, what do YOU 'get to' 

do / go / eat / wear today?

I would love it if you posted on my Facebook the answer to that question. Let's start a movement!!  HEY!!!  We 'get to' start a movement!!  HAHA!!

Humbled, buyoued and blessed
MamaFox

What's Right?

disclaimer: I am terrible with grammar.  I do not profess to be a 'writer' of sorts.  I write like I talk.  I suppose, those that read and know me well, can probably 'hear' me saying what I write.  If you don't know me that well, or have never had a conversation with me, please overlook the typos.  Thank you :-)

I sat down this morning to greet my day.  Some call it a 'quiet time (QT).' I actually just reintroduced my quiet time, as having Jaelyn (per my last post) threw me off my game.  Now that she's caught onto the whole sleep thing, I'm rolling out of bed before the chaos of our daily life ensues.  There's just something about the quiet of that time of day.  

Let me digress a moment.  

I feel so led to share about quiet times. 

In the church-y circles in which I hang, it is encouraged that we, as Christians, 'have a QT' on a daily basis.  You'll hear things like,  

"My QT was really rich!" 
or 
"They've been so dry lately, I feel like I'm not connecting." 
or 
"(sigh) I really should DO a QT, but I just don't know how / what to do." 

And it can become a racket!  It can become the litman's test of where you rank 'as a Christian' among fellow Christians.  (tsk, tsk...'She's not having a QT? Hhhmmm...<eyebrow raised>)  You follow me?  

THAT SAID...I was on a roll a few years ago.  I started the Jesus study by Beth Moore (90 day study) and that really launched a consistent, daily, greet-the-day-with-God routine.  Some days / weeks were rich and great. Some...eh...pretty mediocre, but nonetheless, it was the practice and the quiet that was important.  It is actually what got me through our Jordan Journey in 2009.  Fast forward, baby, sleepless nights...etc.

could. 
not. 
get. 
it. 
together!  

SO...I asked (in prayer), "HOW do you want me to do this, Lord?"

***we interrupt this post for a 

non-emergency announcement***

When using terms like 

"I was told..."
"Felt led..."

in reference to God / Abba / The Lord 'speaking' to me, it is

not to imply that a text was sent from above or that I heard

an actual, audible voice.  Again, in our church-y type circles,

it's a figure of speech.  Christianese, if you will...heehee  

***this non-emergency announcement 

is now over - thank you***

And he told me.

     You have the Jesus Calling Devotion.

     It has passages at the end of each one.

     You have three questions that Pantego provided months ago.

Hhmmm...ok, got it.

Read the JC devo, look up the passages, answer the questions.  I can do that.

Set my alarm for 5a.

It went off.

I hit snooze until 7a, like any decent human being would do.  

And the Christian Guilt set in, feeling like a failure.  (sigh)

Let's try this again...

2:00...AM...as in, IN the morning, my oldest comes in, having had an awful dream.  I went to lay down with her for a few minutes, then walked back to my room.  I stood at my bedroom door, but I sensed that 'nudge' to go and do my QT.  Here's the conversation in my head:

"(sigh) It's 2 o'clock...IN THE MORNING!!!" 

"I'm aware of the time, Kim.  I created it."

"You can't possibly be serious!  Can't you see how tired I am?"

(as I make my eyes drowsy...like a child...see, see...I'm so sleepy)

"Yes, but you told me you wanted to do this.  If you take time now, you can sleep a little more later."

"But...I'm so tired.  Besides, what are we going to talk about?"  

And I crawled into bed...for about 5 seconds.

"You'll never know unless you obey this nudge."

Out to the chair I go, stomping like the proverbial 40-something child, maybe even pouting a little bit; just a little.

And wouldn't ya know it?  FanTabULous time with my Abba.  

I was led to pray for some friends serving in a remote area.  

I prayed for some friends that are in marriage crisis.

I prayed over my family and God brought to mind people I don't know that well, so I prayed for them too.

He even made a joke when I wrote in my journal, 

"2AM?  Really?  I was thinking more like 5AM"  

And he said, "I AM the great I AM!"  

Get it?!  HA!!!  Love. It!

But this was the kicker.  This was 'my sign' - if you will.  At church that morning, I open my bulletin and inside was...

The card with the three questions.

The card that has not been IN the bulletins for several weeks.

Talk about complete and total affirmation.

Lovely.  

Nice.  

Thank you, Kim for that tirade about QT's and rubbing in how spiritual you are touting to be...la-dee-dah (sigh).

What about this post title, 'What's Right?'

Get to the point!!

If I had not started a week ago, I would have missed the richness of this morning's quiet time.  I'll fess up, since my 'ah-ha' moment two weeks ago, my quiet times have been 'eh.'  This morning though, the following nugget was impressed upon my heart.

How often do you ask, throughout the day, "What's wrong?"  

I do.  

I see a cross look on someone's face and I ask, "What's wrong?"  

Someone sighs heavily, "What's wrong?"  

One of my girls rolls their eyes...oh wait, that's normal...ha!!! 

What if we all started asking...wait for it...

What's Right?

How would that transform a day?  Your thoughts?  THEIR thoughts?

What's Right?

I'll tell you what's right in my world:

My health.

My freckles.

My red hair (all three compliments of da Lord who made me!)

A husband that loves me enough to buy me perfume 'just because' (or maybe I just stink...)

Bright, terrific daughters that are responsible and helpful.

My mom who has been a supportive, helpful & loving since the first time she laid eyes on me.

Coffee.  

Friends.

Facebook, that allows me to connect with friends near and far.

Quiet times. (amen, right?!)

Pampered Chef.

Cell phones.

My sweet Rottie's!

I could go on and on, but I already have.  

As you go forward, I encourage you to begin asking, 

What's right?

Humbled, Buoyed and Blessed,
Mama Fox

WHAT are the three questions, Kimberly?!!?!?!  

Ok, ok...I'll tell you:

1)  How has God made Himself known to you today?

2)  How is God changing you today?

3)  What is God calling you to do today?

can be found on www.pantego.org / I take no credit for these

Knocked Up at 41...what the?!?!?!

Excuse me while I dust off my keyboard...it has been a L-O-N-G time, yes??  So much for my 'regular' postings.  If I've learned one thing, tell everyone what I'm going to do and I'm guaranteed to fail...miserably.  (sigh)  That said, there have been some prett-ee big changes in my life since we last met / read / 'spoke.'

Let's begin with getting knocked up at 41.  Ok...ok...'knocked up' seems flippant.  It felt that way though.  Like that sheepish teenage; embarrassed and feeling...for lack of better words, stupid.  Caught.  A life sentence.  I'll be honest, I was the eye-roller, standing in the corner every time I'd hear a woman say, "He/She was our little 'surprise." or "It was completely unexpected."  Arms crossed, exercising my spiritual gift of judging other, "Doesn't she KNOW how...I mean, really...I mean..."

Oh.

Tee-hee.  

Oops.

Meet Jaelyn.  March 15, 2013.

Let's rewind...

July 2012, brushing my teeth.  HHmmm...something is missing. What day is it?  When was my last...D-OH!!!!  Did the pee-stick, went to the doctor THAT DAY for the blood test.  Yep.  Positive.  Kept my mouth shut all weekend.  

Sunday morning, my husband, "We need to decide if we are going to try again or if we're done."  

I kept from laughing outloud.

Yes, indeed...we really should talk about whether we should try to get pregnant...oh wait.  I already am!  Said me, in my head. 

I smiled and agreed.  Like any good wife would do.  "Yes, we really should pray about that."  AAAAaaaahhhhh....!!!!

So, Monday, I wrote on a piece of paper a projected date of our baby-to-be and slipped it in with the rest of the mail.  The baby, that, quite frankly, I was a little ticked off about having taken residence in ma belly!!!  I was JUST losing the OTHER baby fat...sigh.

My Joel is looking through the mail.  The girls between us, mixing muffins.  I'm just watching, like a stalker.  He sees it.

"March 2013?" he says.  (apparently I'm only allowed to have babies in March)

I just stare at him.  Actually, it may have been a glare...my memory is foggy.

"March...are you pregnant?!"  Yes, it was definitely a glare.

I. Just. Nod.

Those big blue eyes I fell in love with - wide.  Jaw - dropped.

The girls SQUEAL!!!

Me, not so much.  I happen to have a very clear idea of what's ahead.  That I better come up with a 'How to Bottle Sleep' app, in the next nine months. Visualizing the diapers, the baby food, nursing...you get my drift.

Might I also add the added dread of what may or may not happen. Those of you just tuning in, we have a history of loss.  I lost our son, Jacob, five months into that pregnancy.  I had two miscarriages after that (one at 12 weeks, one at 8).  I carried Jordan to full-term; discovered the heart defect the moment her umbilical cord was cut.  5 1/2 weeks later, having never come home, I kissed her sweet forehead as she passed from her daddy's arms here to her Daddy in heaven.

I was terrified of what was to come.

Terrified.

But, like all mommy's, I put on the brave face and grew that baby.

A few weeks from her delivery, we sat around the kitchen table.  I had us all write out our fears.  They ranged from down syndrome, to loving the baby more than Sydney and Madelaine, to another complete loss.  We talked.  Cried.  Prayed.

Then lit 'em on fire in the BBQ.  Left it all at the alter, so to speak.

And on March 15, 2013, after a few hours of labor; mournfully deciding to go through with a C-section, and 35 attempts in my back for the spinal (not. kidding.) Jaelyn Bryant Fox made our family of four a family of five.

She was perfect.

Big blue eyes.

Beautiful red hair.

Healthy.

Pretty sure I breathed for the first time in nine months.

The months that followed, I still wrestled with the lot cast on my life.  I decided to stay home with Jaelyn, as I had with my older two.  Here I was, in the throws of diapers, nursing-on-demand and going on little sleep.  No longer 'in demand' at a job or a feeling of importance (how would they go on without me!?).  Home bound to tend to this baby girl.  I knew I was 'supposed' to be so grateful for her, given our detour in 2009.  Quite the contrary, I was feeling selfish and shallow.  I often had friends say, "I'm SO GLAD I'm not you!!!  I can't imagine having a baby!!!"  YOU can't?!  

At about six months, I got it...I fell head over heels in love with her.  I get teary eyed as I think about the tremendous second (third? fourth?) chance I have been given.  I can be slow on the uptake.  

And today - 17 months in - I am thrilled to be the mom of three earth bound girls.  I'm in my element, chasing around a soon-to-be toddler.  I go from advising my 12y on the finer elements of how to navigate through life to 'NO BITING!  NO HITTING' (wait, or is it the other way around....ha!!)

It is a bit daunting to know that I'll be bidding farewell in six short years to my oldest.  I would swear that I watch her mature and grow right before my eyes, like time-elapsed film.  I see my middlest doing her best to figure out where she fits in - exercising her fabulous strong will and personality.  And then I look over my shoulder and am reminded at how quickly it all passes.  I've always hated that cliche, "They grow up before ya know it!"  But as much as I hate it, it's absolutely true.  Just yesterday I was chasing Sydney and Madelaine around, now THEY'RE chasing a smaller version of themselves around!  How did this happen?!

Oh...wait...never mind.  

I know.

(insert eye rolling)

Humbled, buoyed and blessed -
Mama Fox