Meg Ryan, a Witch and a Geisha

Every time I see the beginning of 'You've Got Mail', where Meg Ryan walks blissfully down the streets of NY, coffee in hand, music in the background; something deep inside me wants to be her. Independent. Elphaba in "Wicked" wants to 'defy gravity' and pursue a life free of constraints and judgements. Sayuri in "Memoirs of a Geisha" spends her whole life trying to break away from her financial dependence.

My once hidden attitude of "You're not the boss of me" has really come to the forefront in the roles as wife and mother. With Jon, its how I resist his suggestions, make excuses or delay in keeping my word because in reality - I want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it and how I want to do it.

As a mother, I'm presently faced by the similar attitude in my two year old - how to teach obedience "without challenge, without excuse and without delay" (Tripp). The girls will learn what to look for in husband from Jon's example. But, they will learn how to follow (or submit) to employers, teachers, the law, or to the leadership of their husbands from me.

The Bible says, "submit to one another". Although this is not directed only to women, God does issue this particular command more often to women because it cuts at the heart of where we place our trust - in self as boss. The Bible goes on to say that we submit "out of reverence for Christ". What's to revere about an ancient man who was seemingly too weak to say anything in his own defense and in so submitting it cost him his life on a cross?

It takes tremendous strength to submit and not challenge; humility to honor another above one's self, and faith that in dying to self you will not go unnoticed by God. Jesus showed plenty of confidence in public before his trial; yet, he intentionally stayed quiet because he knew his death would secure the salvation of many. He loved too much and so withstood the physical pain, the blows to his reputation, the burden of God's rejection because of his faith in God. He knew that with death came resurrection.

Entering my new role of motherhood and exploring even further depths in my marriage is like what I'd picture suddenly moving to the Congo would be like - insane, filled with peril and little glory (no offense to Congo). But, I will do this because I owe too much to Christ, am too excited about the personal outcome, and too concerned for the future of my children and the world around me to not enter into it. Death can mean resurrection; for those who chose it.

Grief, Faith and Nancy Guthrie

Last night, while visiting with friends over coffee, our host, Nancy Guthrie, shared from her journey through the deaths of two children. I was struck by her willingness to lay her heart bare, especially after weekends of speaking engagements and hosting grieving families this last weekend. How does she find strength to revisit the memories, the emotions, the loss, without growing bitter or consumed by self-pity? That kind of strength, courage and selflessness must come from God.

How can I respond differently when life abruptly, painfully changes? In listening to her, I took away that there is no list of things "to do". When confronted with loss, there is only faith. Faith that God is good and that He is involved in working all things for GOOD for those who love Him.

But, where does faith come from? How can one have it? Faith is a gift from God and all I have to do is ask Him for it. I was humbled by two things as I walked away last night - (1) all the times I've said nothing to grieving friends out of fear and in turn possibly hurt them and (2) how while pregnant I often saw my condition as a 'burden I must bear' instead of as precious time to care for a child. If ever I am blessed to be pregnant again, I will think of how Nancy Guthrie carried her children and look at those 9 months differently. And the next time I see a grieving friend, I hope I will have the courage to be uncomfortable and tell them I care.

I found Nancy's website today: www.nancyguthrie.com and am considering her book "Holding on to Hope".

Walmart, Tatoos and Viagra

Ok, so I wasn't going to bombard friends with another post, but I have to tell this story. Last night, when forced to the local Walmart pharmacy, I painfully watched the Pharmacist and a Latino gentleman not communicate. I offered to translate to which the gentleman gratefully asked for me to help him get his prescription for Viagra filled! The Pharmacist asked what the problem was, (why?), and I had the joy of hearing his explanation!!! Minutes later, while in our next line, Riley suddenly starts laughing at a man behind us. It turns out he was covered in tatoos head to toe, with gaping holes in his ear lobes. Anyone have suggestions on how to teach your child not to laugh at others? I was mortified. I can't blame her innocence though when it looked like he'd taken a Sharpie to his head and body, coupled with Papua New Guinea style holey earlobes. Walmart, man, its a box of chocolates - you never know what you're gonna get.

Riley's first day of preschool!

The loaded report from the teacher was, "She really missed you." Hmmm... I laughed with Jon when we saw her walking around the playground with her huge blankie - meant for nap time. I was amazed at how she clearly communicated what went on that day while we were in the car  - good times. And I loved how while Jon worked that night, how Riley got really sick with a high temp and stomach bug!!!