Dear momma

Dear momma,

I'm sorry for waking you up at 4:30 AM with my burst of energy. I promise I won't do it again if you'll just throw my goose for me.

Love,

Lambeau

Musings of a Seminary Wife: I wouldn't have it any other way...

 
   We went to a friend's house for dinner last night. They are a seminary couple too, and we really like them. But I digress.

      After dinner we entered into a more thought-provoking discussion about why our culture does not grieve or mourn very well. We all shared different thoughts, and several times during the conversation one of the guys said, "Well, in my Ref. and Mod. class we discussed..." or "..in my Old Testament class we learned.." And it hit me in a big way, so much so that I thought I might start crying, which would be ironic considering that our conversation during dinner had been about the wives' increased comfort level in crying in front of their spouses.

    As I sat and listened to these two men talk about what they're learning in their classes, and apply it in such a real way to life, I was struck by the realization that if Spencer decided he wanted to drop out of seminary and pursue an average career, I would be sad. I felt convicted that I spend more time lamenting the fact that we still have 3 more years until we're done than I do praising Jesus for the chance for us as a couple to be shaped by Covenant Seminary. I spend more time wishing that I was a SAHM with a beautiful baby than I do thanking God for the chance that Spencer gets to be a student for 4 years and sit under such wise and Godly men. I spend more time wishing away my days of working a full-time job rather than being grateful that I have the means and opportunity to support us in the professional world. Despite all the time I spend "wishing" things were different, I would truly be sorrowful if this precious season was over.

     We are learning so much about ministry, work, and marriage. We are learning what it means to practice community in the midst of a busy busy life. We are learning what hard, slow work it is to build relationships and grow friendships. We have much yet to learn, and harder seasons ahead. But we are learning again and again that the Lord provides, and that He has a beautiful plan for us even though we can't see around the bend. Yes, our future hopes may have to wait. But all of this is so worth it, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Confessions: The Day I Broke Up with the Treadmill

     It was a fateful day in January of 2011. Me and the Treadmill had been going steady for several years now...in fact, we practically had a date lined up 4 times a week! On this particular day, I was jamming to some music (probably Shane and Shane, Shawn McDonald, or Bethany Dillon), and I was running at a good pace. I was lookin' good in my shorts and T-shirt, ponytail, and sweaty face. All of a sudden, I found myself holding onto the handlebars for dear life, legs slamming against the belt with every rotation.

     It was like a slow-motion movie. I had the time to think to myself, "if you want to get off of this treadmill, you have to just let go. Ready 1,2,3!" And on 3, I release my hands and my body rolled off the belt and I to the ground. 

     A bloody and embarrassed mess, I attempted to quickly collect myself as I looked up at the fellow treadmill runners staring at me with gaping mouths. "Are you okay?!" one girl asked. "Oh my GOODness! What happened?!" exclaimed another. And just as I rose to my wobbly feet, the very cute boy who sat at the weight room desk came running over to help me. 

"It..it..was a clumsy mistake!" I mumbled, with burning cheeks and stinging eyes. 

"Are you sure?" He asked with a concerned look. "Maybe you should sit down."

"Thank you, but I'm fine....I'll be fine," I assured him as I picked up my iPod off the floor and grabbed my water bottle, "thanks for coming to check on me though!"

     And with that, I walked to the waiting room, painfully aware of my throbbing shins and knees, burned raw from the fast track of the treadmill belt.

I still have the scars on my legs from that day, and it makes a pretty good story now! But I never have gotten back on one, and I don't plan on it. It was a clean break-up... and I won't turn back! 

Spring break in seminary

What do seminarians do during their spring break? 

Well, play Nintendo of course! 

And nap....

Even li'l miss Lambeau decided it was time for a nap!

What are some of your favorite spring break activities?

Mommy, please look at me!

"Mommy, mommy look at this fish!!!" she exclaimed, as her pigtails bounced from side to side. 

Tugging on her mother's sleeves, she persistently said again, 'Mommy, look! I really want for you to see this fish." 

Her mother, not taking her eyes off of the shiny iPhone screen muttered, "In a minute. Just hang on." 

Not to be deterred by her mother's focus on the task before her, the little girl waited a moment and continued to watch the fish, gazing at the tank as the little legs clad in pink tights swung back and forth on the chair. 

She glanced up at her mother again, and seeing that surely a minute had passed she reached up to her mother's arm and declared, "Mommy, this fish. Look at this fish!" 

"Mhmmm..." the woman replied and nodded her head, eyes still glued on the Facebook status she was reading. 

The bright brown eyes looked down at the floor, downcast. Tilting her head up she said much more quietly, "Mommy, please look at me." 

"Okay, okay!" she replied in a frustrated tone, and with one last scroll through the newsfeed, she turned her head to look at whatever it was that her daughter was so fascinated with. 

"Oh no! Mommy, it went away. You missed it." 

And with that, the mother sat down in the nearest chair and pulled the phone back out, compulsively drawn to whatever new the iPhone world might offer to entertain her. 

Across the room, the girl went back to kicking her legs, bobbing her ponytail, and watching the fish. 

All was right in her 5 year-old world, but a little wound had been placed on her heart just then, and she didn't even know it. 

      I have watched this scene unfold over and over in the past 7 months of working in a pediatricians' office. My desk is situated such that I can see the fish tank in the waiting room and hear most of the conversation that goes on. Most of the time, it's endearing and funny to watch parents interact with their children. Kids will start singing, talking, laughing, and I love listening to it.

    But there are also moments when my heart hurts just watching. This scenario in particular often stops me in my tracks- where the iPhone (or any other handheld device) wins over the child. The heart message that was sent to that little 5 year-old is this: Your interests are petty and are not worth paying attention to. The world on my phone is more important to me than investing in you, your discoveries, and your growth.

    Now, as a disclaimer: I am NOT saying that parents should dote on their children every second of the day. That creates spoiled children. And, I am also not a parent, so perhaps writing a blog post on parenting is foolish. But I want to try it anyways.

    Everyday, I see parents sitting in the waiting room with eyes glued on their screen, whatever it may be. Children address them, "Mommy, mommy!" "Daddy, daddy!" and most of the time, the parent never lifts their head. A non-communicative sound is normally expressed, and maybe a nod, but usually the child gives up and goes to play by him or herself.

     One of the things that Spencer and I both respect in great parents is their constant quest to make life a lesson. What I love to see are the parents who take their child by the hand and lean down to look at the fish. They "ooh and ahh" right along with their kids and teach them about the ocean. They explain that the little plants are called sea weed, that the big black sucker fish eats algea off of the glass so that the tank stays clean. This brief moment in the day affirms children in their interests, develops their mind, expands their understanding of the world, and grows the bond between parent and child.

     Or the parent who, instead of responding to their child's question about the Peanut Allergy sign hanging in our waiting room with a brief, "It's an instruction sign," stoops down to read it out loud with their child, discuss what an allergy is, and what it might mean to people. I understand that this takes effort, energy, and time. I understand that by the end of the day, you may just want to lock yourself in a closet and take a nap. I get it. But our culture of parents are so focused on screens that we're missing valuable moments with our children.

    One of the beautiful qualities of children is their excitement and awe at the simplest of things: an ice cream cone, a butterfly, or a fish. If that mother had seen the look of sheer joy and excitement at the sight of the yellow fish inside the tank, I don't think she would have been able to hold back a smile.

    And you know what? This all reminds me of us and our Heavenly Father. Do you know how many times He says, "My daughter, my son- look! Look at my Creation, look what I have done for you. Would you please take your eyes off the worries of this world and look at ME?! I contain all the wonder, all the stability, all the peace you could ever ask for." So next time I see a parent ignoring their child to continue on in whatever phone activity they're doing, I remember that I am just as stubborn as them. My Father, my Savior, my Lord, my King is tugging on my sleeve asking me to follow Him, asking me to find peace and joy in His salvation, for His yoke is easy and His burden is light. But instead, I choose not to see the wonder. I choose not to accept the joy, and I continue on in my wordly pursuits, just as a parent chooses not to participate in their child's learning experience, chooses not to affirm the joy and excitement they've found in an ordinary thing.

    I encourage you- take a moment and delight in your child today. Put your phone on silent, in a different room, and sit down and build a castle with legos, or an imaginary feast with play food. Delight in the simplicity of your child's soul and find joy in it. Look your child in the eyes and tell them you love them. You won't regret it.

Musings of a Seminary Wife: Making groceries and budgets work.

Grocery shopping and budgeting. 3 words that make most people cringe. Because let's be honest, if you try to mix those two things, it doesn't normally work. The grocery bill will always be larger than you want it to be, and the grocery budget will always be smaller. There are many weeks when I watch the cash register screen climb. $30...$35... $50...$60...crash. With one little ding of the register, I exceed our budget and I feel like a failure. Every. Single. Week. I was a couponing monster this past summer- spending hours every week pouring over the ads and websites, trying to find the best deal and save the most money. It was fun, don't get me wrong. My husband says that my competitive side comes out when it comes to shopping for groceries. Trying to beat our budget becomes a game. But it's an exhausting game to play and too time-consuming with working full-time. Because let's be real, I want a life outside of couponing! So we've changed things around in the past few months.

 Many of our friends have asked how we do our grocery budget and shopping, so I thought I would do a series of its own. I go grocery shopping once a month. During that shopping trip, I spend 80-90% of our grocery budget for the entire month and go to Aldi, Walmart, and Costco. Then the rest of the month, I just run into Aldi once a week to pick up fresh produce, milk, etc. That beginning of the month trip is exhausting but so worth it, knowing the rest of the month I will spend less than 20 minutes grocery shopping every week. So you may be wondering- this sounds great, but how does this actually work? Let me walk you through the steps with all the nitty-gritty details.

 Step 1: Meal plan! I print out any old calendar from Google and plan out my meals for the month. My hubby doesn't want to eat soup every night, bless his heart, so we have a 1-soup-a-week-limit.

 Step 2: Go through all of the meals and write out the non-perishable, dry ingredients you'll need for the month. I usually start buy counting up how many chicken breasts and pounds of hamburger I will need. I buy all of my meat and shredded cheese in bulk and then freeze it. Then I make a list of other items such as canned vegetables, bread crumbs, etc. Next, write down any fresh items you'll need for your first week of meals. For me, this usually includes milk, orange juice, fruit, and vegetables. Lastly, I comb through my master grocery list and make sure I have the basics: flour, sugar, dish soap, TP, etc. 

Step 3: Now you're ready to go shopping! I considered taking a selfie at Costco or Walmart but decided against it. You can imagine to yourself what this step looks like. Me, struggling to steer the rebellious cart down the aisle without hitting anyone or knocking expensive jars of gourmet jelly on the floor. I am a recipe for disaster sometimes.

 Step 4: Have your hubby carry in all the groceries. He loves this. ;)

 Step 5: Unpack your grocery bags, freeze the meat, put your groceries away, and take a nap!

What more would you like to know about once-a-month grocery shopping??

Memories

The mind is a funny thing. The way that a scent, a sight, a taste, a sound can trigger a flood of memories, taking you back to another world, another place, another life.

 Today I saw one of those yellow "Wet Floor" signs and on it is also printed "Piso mojado." In case you don't speak Spanish that means wet floor :) For whatever reason, that phrase triggered my brain back to my first trip to Eagle's Nest Children's Home in Guatemala. I was 14, and terrified of using my limited Spanish vocabulary. I was overwhelmed by the number of children in the home- 70 babies in a large room, 3 to a crib, prop-fed by bottles on blankets. Working in the infant room felt a bit like walking on thin ice. The mommas had worked there for years and had a system- their ears were used to the constant crying and noise. They had their feeding and bathing schedule down to a science. I desperately wanted to help but often felt like I was butting in- after all, this is their job and these are their babies.

So I never felt like I could just go up to the changing counter and change a diaper. I also didn't know how to say diaper. So instead, I would take a baby up to one of the mommas, hold him up, scrunch up my nose and say, "El bebe tiene pantalones sucios." Translated literally as "the baby has dirty pants." They would laugh, and some of them would fake a smile and nod their head. How silly it all seems now.

First of all, knowing how elementary my Spanish sounded. I'm sure some of them enjoyed my broken grammar and mis-used vocabulary. But I have a feeling they did not appreciate me, the North American, bringing them baby after baby with diapers to be changed. They surely knew that babies had dirty diapers. They surely knew that babies were lying in cribs screaming. They surely knew.

This brings me to think of two things. Firstly, we owe so much to the natives who work in international orphanages, tirelessly caring for the least of these. We owe so much to the foster families who open their homes to children both here in the US and abroad. In doing this, they open their hearts to love and to heartbreak. They love children who are not their own- either biologically or adopted. And as I've heard from other mothers, this job of parenthood is not an easy one. If you are traveling to an orphanage, consider taking gifts not only for the children but also for the caregivers. When you enter the orphanage, greet not only the children with a hug and smile, but also the caregivers. Were it not for willing hearts and hands, these children would not be cared for.

Secondly, it brings to mind my main take-away from my most last trip down: that orphanages are not God's plan for children. Families are. I can remember looking at my dad on our flight home and saying, "We don't need more volunteers willing to travel to a foreign country and play with children for a week. We need more adoptive families." I realize that no family is perfect. But an imperfect family cloaked in the grace and love of Christ will be enough for a child, and a far better option than none at all.

It's romantic- this idea of flying far away to serve in an old building filled with children. It makes you feel good, it makes you look good when all your Facebook friends see you holding these beautiful children. The work is done in the name of Christ, myself included. In and of itself, these service trips are not bad. Please hear me on this. The Lord is glorified through them, but what we really need are people willing to open their homes and hearts to adopt. People who are willing to get dirty, willing to work in the trenches for the sake of little broken hearts, wounded from abandonment and lack of security. It is not easy, it is not cheap, it may very well be the hardest thing you will ever do. But it is desperately, desperately needed, and that will not change until we empty these orphanages into our homes- one child at a time.

My mind floats back to that room in the orphanage. It is dark out. I mindlessly rock back and forth in the wooden rocking chair, a sweet baby in each arm, breathing softly. A momma comes over to whisk away two more to change their "pantalones sucios" and I give her a smile. The older children are crowded around a small TV watching a movie, the one time of the day that they are quiet and still. I look down at the darling faces of the sleeping babies- admiring their perfect crinkled noses, tightened fists, and smooth skin. I whisper in their ears, "Jesus te ama." Jesus loves you. They may never know the stability of a family, imperfect as even the best. Their foster families and mommas may not always be there. But there is One who is. And I pray that in those moments when the waves of fear, insecurity, and worry come, that they might fall onto the Rock of Ages, the Father they never had.