Wednesday, June 29, 2011


I cannot seem to etch out even a little bit of time for mommy as of late. I have not had my hair cut in, um... almost.... I have no clue, but I think it was part of my daily document thing.

Last Saturday, I did my nails. Shaped, smoothed, buffed, polished. But only my left hand. My right hand remains unfinished.

I have a dear friend who is due with her first in about three weeks. Her baby shower card, from WEEKS ago? Unsigned. Part of the gift? Unfinished.

I started watching a documentary on the Kennedys. Because, hello, I was a history major and I'm a total nerd and I like to watch that stuff for fun, and have recently started to miss college because I haven't written a research paper in AGES. Yup. You guessed it. Unfinished.

The curtains in Ansley's new room have been put up, and the paint colors picked out, and the plan laid out perfectly in my mind. But the project itself. Unfinished. Actually, not really even started.

I could keep going: the numerous knitting projects, the bags of clothes to go to Goodwill, but have not yet made it to the car, the several books I have dog-eared around the house, the refinancing paperwork, cleaning out the refrigerator, the laundry, a plethora of blog posts....

I used to work for a newspaper. As much as I hated the stress that came with a deadline, my best work came as that time approached. In college, it was the same. My 38-page thesis? Yup, pretty much written in two days.  I have always felt that I work better under pressure.  But I think it is finally catching up to me.

Because not only have I stopped working well under pressure, it makes me pretty much stop working. I do the same thing every day. And I love it. Don't get me wrong. But after a long day at work, and a long, sometimes trying evening with Queen of the Terrible Twos, by the time I get her to sleep (which seems to be getting later and later), and I'm able to do a little bit of housework (I'm talking, the dishes washed and the tornado of toys cleaned up), I don't have the energy to read a few pages. Or paint my nails. Or take off the unmatching nail polish from when Ansley decided to paint my nails.

I know it gets better. And I know I wouldn't trade what I have for anything. But, I'm not going to lie. I hate leaving things unfinishe

Monday, June 20, 2011


How about some recent pics?
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Thursday, June 9, 2011


Last night at Bible study, we stumbled upon a topic that is always tough to deal with.

Is God fair?

This question is a double edged sword. Because we are told in scripture that He is just, and in our finite human minds, to us, that should mean that He is fair. But our very definition of the word is perverted.

"It isn't fair that I have to work Saturday."
"It isn't fair that they always have the finer things in life! We work so hard!"

But then, what about those bigger issues? We still toss around that simple word, selling ourselves short of what we really mean.

It isn't fair that some women struggle with infertility, while others have abortions.
It isn't fair that some children are born addicted to drugs.
It isn't fair that some children go without food, while the parents don't go without cigarettes.
It isn't fair that right now, Melissa, over at Three Times the Fun, just had to title her last post "Three cribs, minus one" because one of her 6 month old triplets, Owen, died.


And it hit me really hard. Because I live in a world that cries out for equality. Fairness. We raise our kids under the idea that every kid makes the team. Even if it means sitting the bench the entire season, or cutting the playing time of a kid that actually is good so parents don't get upset. If you plan on inviting one child to a birthday party, you have to invite the whole class, so no one's feelings get hurt.

All this does is keep kids from experiencing disappointment.

This feeling of entitlement? It carries over into adulthood. Entitled to disability, Medicare, Food Stamps. Entitled to have all the best stuff, without working for it. Entitled to drive that new Lexus, even if it means going to a pregnancy center to get help with diapers. Every week.

Jails are required to have luxuries, like cable. Because that is fair.

But is it fair that someone is going without their loved one, because of a decision made by someone else?

And I've grown up thinking that God is the ultimate judge. The ultimate in fairness. But, it isn't true.

Because if God were to be fair, and give us what we really deserve, it would not have been His son. He would give us the consequences for our rebellion. But, he doesn't. He isn't fair. Instead, He shows Grace. And Mercy. Instead of giving us what we do deserve, He blesses us with that which we don't deserve.

So, here I live. In a world that isn't fair. In a world that struggles to show grace and mercy. In a world that says fairness is expected. A world were people feel like they are owed. Like they deserve.

And I'm the same way. Because I feel entitled. Entitled to have a healthy next pregnancy, since the first one was a little rough. Entitled to have a raise at work, because I work my tail off. Entitled to have the husband cater to me, because I put Ansley to bed every night.

Entitled to that grace and mercy, because my sins aren't that bad.

I'm reminded of a beautiful song:
                            I am the thorn in Your crown, But You love me anyway 
                            I am the sweat from Your brow, But You love me anyway 
                            I am the nail in Your wrist, But You love me anyway 
                            I am Judas’ kiss, But You love me anyway

That's what isn't fair.