What's Next, Papa?

Ever have a day where you feel something like this?

I COULD go on and on about the start to my week.  But why rehash what I'd really like to forget?  I COULD tell you all about a frustrating conversation at church or I COULD tell you how a tire on our truck came completey off on our way home last night.  I COULD complain about how me and the kids had to sit in the car for a very long time shining our headlights on the truck so Jim had enough light to fix it.  I COULD complain about the snow and the cold...Or I COULD tell you all my woes today as I spent hours at Children's Mercy w/ my cranked out/freaked out toddler...but nope, you ain't gonna hear it.

Good thing I went to Africa.

It is no coincidence that I started my week reading Romans 8.  {Go ahead, take a look at it.  Re-read it...in fact, wanna get really serious?  Go to www.biblegateway.com and read it in several different translations.  This site makes it as easy as a click of a button. } Do you know that Paul tells us that we should look at each day as an ADVENTURE?   

 This life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?"

You know what?  I'm not gonna lie.  Today I WANTED to complain.  I FELT like being crank pants.  But I FIXED my thoughts on WHAT REALLY MATTERED.  PRAISE the LORD.  And you know what Romans 8 tells us?

If we go through the hard times with him, then we're certainly going to go through the good times with him! 

 

MmmHmm...it's gettin' good...but wait, there's more.  Read on, dear friend.  Let these words from God soak right into your heart...like those ridiculous paper towel commercials!

All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

 ^26-28Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. 

Really?  A MAN wrote this?  Wow, I'd say this man (probably Paul) was for sure "in touch" with his feminine side! Normally I'd smack any man who had the audacity to even TRY and "GET" what birth pangs are like! But re-read that again right now and then come back.  Ok, how can I not read and say, "WOW...Paul, you nailed it on the head, boy! It is obvious you were inspired to write that by a Holy God!"  Here's my most favorite line: But the longer we wait, the larger we become; and the more joyful our expectancy.  Boy, isn't that the truth? The longer I waited for my kids to "arrive", the larger I got.  I mean, LARGE.  Let's just say by the end my goal was to weigh less than my husband..who happens to be 6'1 and muscular.  To say I was "joyfully expectant" is putting it mildly.  Towards the end, I could tell you the weeks, days, hours and minutes.  I thought about it every day, all day long! Each time I waddled up the stairs breathlessly or struggled to buckle my seatbelt I praised Jesus it was soon...and begged Him to make it sooner.

This next part gives me chills like when I hear Mozart played by an orchestra:

So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn't hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn't gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God's chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture...None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us. 

 

Yes, I COULD say this and I COULD say that...but would my words turn your thoughts to Jesus? Would my words turn MY thoughts to Jesus?  Would my actions  demonstrate a loving, determined God who puts everything on the line for me? So I think I'll finish my blog today by leaving THIS picture in your mind...and I hope and pray that depicts the kind of person I was today...

 

 

 

 

Happy 3rd Birthday Charlotte Lynne!

Momma's 1st Mother's Day

Dear Charlotte Lynne, 

  I'd like to start off by describing what you are to me.  But how does one describe a sunbeam?...or a daisy as it bends toward the sun to warm her face on summer afternoon? You are my bright blue sky with big fluffy clouds...I wanna lie down on my back and take in the wonder of who you are.  If I could catch your inner spirit and stick it in a jar, much like a firefly on hot July night, I'd sit for hours admiring the beauty of your light. Your smile fills up a room like a double rainbow fills the sky after a spring rain. Your laughter is a sweet symphony, a song my ears never grow tired of hearing.  To sum it up: You are my Jubilee. My mountain top.  My favorite, lazy hammock under a breezy tree that I could sit in all day long and revel in its simplicity but sheer beauty.  That's what you are to me.

I could kiss your cheeks all day long!

I hear some mothers say they "buck heads" with their daughters, but not us, Cookie Dough.  We aren't exactly alike which I believe is why we completely enjoy one another's company.   The thing that drives me the most nuts about you is your level-head and cautiousness.  How many times a day do I say to you, "C'mon girl...throw caution to the wind!"  You look at me like I've lost my mind.  Change is not something you seem to enjoy, unlike your momma who finds it refreshing in every way.  When in new situations, you like to gage your surroundings first but once you open up, people realize  you have the moon to offer! You are a loyal friend.  You love your cousins. You play well with others and even at this age you share. (except w/ your brother but we're a work in progress, right?) You have a soft spirit, much like a solitary snowflake as it gently makes its way down to the earth below, unhurried, beautiful, and unique in every way.

Movie night w/ your best friends

Momma is saying, "C'mon girl, throw caution to the wind!"

What names do we call you? "Charlee", (everyone calls you this. Actually, the only person who calls you "Charlotte" is your daddy) "Sunbeam", "Cookie Dough", "Charlee-Oh"...and Daddy calls you "sweetie" a lot.  By the way, he is completely WHIPPED by you.  His big blue eyes lolly-gag like a hound dog's whenever he's around you.  Whenever I get to step back and watch the 2 of you interact it makes me melt from the inside out.  I remember watching your Daddy hold you when you were a baby and I'd be HIT w/ a wave of love like I had never felt before.  Funny thing is, tonight I had the exact same feeling.  It never gets old.  I hope it never does.

Buddies

Your favorite "toy" of all time...for THREE years now...is your lovey whom we affectionately have named Miss Daisy.  Miss Daisy has stuck by your side and has the stains to prove it.  You started calling her "Daisy-Oh" about a year ago.  When you turned 2 your Daddy and I thought we should buy 1 more, the exact same lovey, just in case you lost Daisy-oh.  But you know a fake when you smell it!  That was the most wasted $12 of my life because you have NOTHING to do w/ the other one.  Some other things you love...our front porch, horses, daisy's, strawberry shortcake, trains, cars, painting, being outside, your dolls, painting your toe's, and going to music class with your momma.  For your birthday, you have told Momma that you want "Chuggington" (train movie/series) and "Baby Ghana"...your little African doll!

Choo! Choo!

Holding Baby Ghana's hand

Charlee holding Miss Daisy-oh and hangin' out on our front porch

  You also love helping Momma cook...you're my sidekick!  Tonight you insisted on wearing your leotard w/ tutu, leg warmers and pink tights to bed.  Pink is your favorite color, after all.  I watched you play with your Thomas the Trains and hot wheels today and thought to myself, "She is a cool kid."  You are a perfect mix.  I think you'll be the kind of girl who shoots guns w/ her nails painted pink.  I bet Daddy will take you fishing all the time but you'll have pigtails w/ hot pink ribbons.   You love to play in the mud but as soon as your done you insist that I wash your hands.  I love it...I love YOU.

  I'll never forget a not-so-fun night when you were about 1 year old.  You were so very hot and limp as a noodle due to your fever.  I honestly thought we might lose you.  As I sat in the back seat holding you on the way to the hospital, I cried Psalms 121 over you.  I mean, CRIED OUT TO A HOLY GOD...I  claimed that Scripture over your life with as much determination a human could possibly have.  And I still do to this day.    Thank you for exactly who you are:  YOU.  I know I tell you every single day that, "I love bein' your momma!"...and maybe I say it too often, making it lose it's appeal...but girl, I'll say it a million trillion times just to make sure you know, I LOVE BEIN' YOUR MOMMA.  You were ORDAINED, CHOSEN and HAND PICKED to be MY daughter and I take my job seriously.  Ok ok, not TOO seriously but you know what I mean! Remember, you are MOST precious to Him...Jesus.  If I love you to the moon and back, He loves you to the edge of the universe and back 100 times!  If you make my world go round, you make His head spin faster than I can say "Bottabing-bottaboe!". If I say I love you so much it hurts, well than my little Sunbeam, He loves you so much He died on a tree and took on every sin of the world...just so that He could look at your sweet face and those big brown eyes and call you "My daughter".

  The year of "3"...you and me, kid.  This will be the year you throw caution to the wind, girl! We're gonna live life BIG, hunny.  Side by side we're gonna face your fears and in the power of Jesus we're gonna kick 'em and shout, "I AIN'T AFRAID NO MO'!"

We're gonna tackle the alphabet, colors, numbers, potty training, vocabulary...girl, the world is yours for the taking!  My prayer this year...the year of 3...is that you discover how to EMBRACE the world around you, like a wild mustang running on a Wyoming plain...not running due to fear, but running b/c you are free from it. Happy Birthday, Cookie Dough.  

Love, Momma

Psalm 121

¹I lift up my eyes to the hills.  From where does my help come?

² My help comes from the LORD,
   who made heaven and earth.
 ³He will not let your foot be moved;
   he who keeps you will not slumber.
⁴Behold, he who keeps Israel
   will neither slumber nor sleep.
 ⁵The LORD is your keeper;
   the LORD is your shade on your right hand.
⁶ The sun shall not strike you by day,
   nor the moon by night.
 ⁷The LORD will keep you from all evil;
   he will keep your life.
⁸The LORD will keep
   your going out and your coming in
   from this time forth and forevermore.

Rodeo Time!

"I Miss Kenda!" (Kendra is our cowgirl neighbor and Charlee's hero!)

Waiting our turn at Children's Mercy

Look! It's Nemo's Birthday, TOO!

Frozen yogurt after a long day at the hospital

Your smile lights up a room

The Week of Milestones

Today I'm celebrating a week to remember here at Terrell Ranch.

Sam Watson is officially walking!  He has finally learned the art of SLOWING DOWN.  I have decided that my main goal as his mother is to keep him ALIVE for the next 18 years.  The boy has no fear!  I can already picture him with a cape on, jumping off every piece of furniture in my house.  I visualize him w/ a cast on his arm and stitches in his head.  Lord, help me!

My cautious, almost-3-year-old Charlee has also hit a huge milestone this week...one I thought would NEVER get here.  Bless her heart...she over-thinks everything and that "over-thinking" sometimes PARALYZES her in fear.  This will be something that I and her daddy will have to really help her "navigate" through.  Fear is not from God...but I digress.  That being said, she has had a fear to JUMP.  Yes, that's what I said.  She would not let her feet leave the floor, my friends.  I have tried every trick in the book but to no avail.  But this week...while listening to a song about a bunny, low and behold my daughter started JUMPING.  Now, it looks quite hilarious as she hasn't totally committed but this is a HUGE start and I am beyond THRILLED.  Congrats, Charlee!  Just 2 days shy of turning 3 you are FINALLY JUMPING!!!!  WOO HOO!!!!!

So there you have it.

On another note...this is super strange but way too good not to share.  I'm seriously laughing out loud as I type this.  I did some spring cleaning yesterday and opened up a a little bag in our cupboard and pulled out 2 small mesh-type bags filled w/ the BEST AROMA of my life.  A mix of cedar and peppermint which happen to be some of my most favorite smells EVER.

So...it only made sense to stick them in my drawer of undergarments, right?  They needed a little "freshening" up...what woman doesn't love some aromatherapy?  Plus, I figure it was either do that or trash them.  And I'm all about recycling.

It made such an impression on my sense of well-being that when my dear husband got home and we were getting ready for bed, I opened up the drawer and said, "Hunny!  I discovered every woman's dream come true in the world of aromatherapy!" I then proceeded to pull out the little mesh-bag thingy and stuck it on his nose...literally.  He started cracking up laughing.  Why? you might ask.  Well, let me tell you.  Apparently, that "dream come true" mesh-bag thingy that I had in w/ all my undergarments is ACTUALLY a DETERRENT FOR MICE.  Yep, that's right.  Jim bought those to put in our POP-UP CAMPER TO KEEP THE MICE OUT. At least it's "all natural".

Now, normal women would probably refuse to stick that back in their drawer of lace and cottons.

As for what I did...I'll let you decide for yourself.

"Mask" the Raccoon and Marshmallow Heaven

Yesterday hovered right around 80 degrees...a perfect day to play outside.  Charlee and I were hanging out on the front porch, enjoying our spring day.  All of a sudden she says, "Raccoon, Momma!" Low and behold, walking right out of our field of tall grass appeared an adorable raccoon.  Remember the movie "Field of Dreams" and there was the voice, "If you build it they will come" and then the players just walked right out of the corn?  Well, instead of Shoeless Joe Jackson we had The Masked Bandit.  I ran inside to grab our zoom lens and camera, all the while proclaiming to Charlee, "Oh wow! This is so exciting!" I started snapping away as he literally kept walking straight towards us.  He seemed to lack no fear.  Charlee isn't quite 3 so her squeals of delight were nothing short of ear-deafening. But on he came, now close enough for me to have to switch lenses on the camera.  I couldn't believe his "NO FEAR" attitude...

Until he got about 10 feet away from us and I noticed he was acting a bit strange to say the least.  He was staggering and his eyes looked funny.  This was not a raccoon who felt empowered and fearless...and it suddenly occurred to me that he was looking for his final resting place and for whatever reason had decided our front porch was the place to be.  I watched him struggle up our porch steps.  Charlee asked me if she could pet him and I said, "No hunny.  I think he is sick so we need to just leave him alone."  He finally made it up the 2 steps and then, with every last effort, made it under our firewood rack.  I could almost hear the sigh of resignation and relief as he plopped down and rested his head.  I went inside and got 2 slices of bread and a marshmallow thinking I might as well try and make his last moments as comfortable as possible.  You see, to me, he was the "animal version" of Abraham on the streets of Ghana.  I know he had "an untouchable" disease of some kind, but what can I say?  I felt compelled? I felt compassion? I felt sad? So...regardless of the very small voice warning me to be careful, I put on some work gloves and stroked his back a few times.  Charlee and I prayed over him.  We had a healthy conversation about death and life.  Our first.  She is still too young to fully understand but I didn't want to pass up such a teachable moment.  I do not believe it in her best interest to protect her from such topics.  Afterall, we live in the country where we see dead (and alive) wildlife often.  But most importantly, how can I pass up this perfect opportunity to plant some seeds in her little heart?

We decided to let him have some peace and quiet so we went inside but watched him through our kitchen window.  I asked Charlee what his name was and she told me, "Mask".  I liked it.  It seemed perfect.

When Jim got home later that evening, Mask was still lying under the firewood rack, still hanging on...barely.  We knew what must be done but dreaded it all the same.  Jim got his gun.  The kids and I went upstairs and played so Daddy could take care of business.  This morning, as soon as Charlee walked out into the kitchen she looked out the window, but Mask wasn't there.  I asked if she was sad but she said no.  I think when I told her last night that "daddy is taking care of Mask" she took it quite literally!

I was once ravaged by "disease" just like Mask.  We're all born w/ it.  It's called SIN.  We stagger through life, trying desperately to find a place to give us Peace...and when I was a teenager I found it.  TRUE PEACE. MY FINAL RESTING PLACE.  His name is JESUS. And then I died to SELF, and He gave me NEW LIFE.  Oh the lessons we can learn, the wonderful things we can be reminded of...all from an adorable Raccoon named "Mask".

There's a Fire in the Oven!

Some days just don't go as planned.  Period.  Let me explain.

Saturday my mom and I spoke at the women's breakfast at our church in Lees Summit.  All week long I had been praying and preparing my heart.  I had genuinely asked God to show me what to "highlight".  

Friday, the day before, Jim was supposed to get home around 1pm.  I envisioned playing w/ my kids that morning, putting them both down for a nap and once Jim was home, shutting myself in my bedroom and spending much needed time alone w/ the Lord.  I saw myself kneeling beside my bed, enjoying our talk, quiet, peaceful.  I was counting on this time to go over my notes, organize my thoughts, etc.

I don't think Satan had the same thing in mind for me...

I woke up w/ a horrible migraine at 5am.  My sweet little Sam is having a terrible time w/ 2 teeth that could poke through his gums any day now, leaving him irritable and hard to deal with.  Charlee woke up and had leaked potty all over everything in her bed.  So I took everything off and threw it in the wash.  I turned on the TV to catch some of the news and was extremely horrified to hear of the happenings in Japan.  My heart was very heavy and I was reminded that my problems here are NOTHING compared to all over the world.  I kept reminding myself of that when Jim called around 1 and wasn't anywhere close to getting home yet.  I got Charlee to go down for her afternoon nap just as Sam was waking up from his.  When Charlee woke up around 4pm she had leaked AGAIN...

Regardless, I managed to make 3 lasagna's (for some sweet friends who deserved it!) and doubled a batch of chocolate chip cookies.  Dishes and food covered my kitchen counter when Jim walked in the door at 5pm.  Both kids were screaming, the house smelled like something burning and Jim yells, "There's a fire in the oven!"  The fire alarms went off, the kids were completely freaking out, smoke everywhere, my head felt like it could literally burst between my ears and I looked at Jim...kids screaming at the top of their lungs...and I LAUGHED MY HEAD OFF!!!  My smile had a chain reaction because Jim joined in laughing with me and said, "You and me, kid, livin' life together."  To which I responded by saying, "And there is no one I'd rather do it with!" (and then we did our secret family fist pound)

I have had God whispering John 16:33 in my head many times the last week. 

"I've told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I've conquered the world."

God tells us that we WILL experience "difficulties".  Fill in the blank...In this godless world you WILL continue to experience _____________ divorce/poverty/disease/a wayward child/an unsaved spouse/death...But here's the good news...CHRIST HAS OVERCOME IT ALL.  You and my trouble's are washed under the blood of Jesus.  We can TRUST to be under His protection from now until the dawning of eternity!  Isn't this just so wonderful to think on today? Now, I am only human and can't help but question "WHY???" when I see tsunami's, abandoned children in Ghana, earthquakes in New Zealand, etc...Why oh why, God? I thank the Lord that He is not threatened by my questions.  He is LOVE, and LOVE IS PATIENT.  And the simple answer to these things is SIN.  But when I'm sitting w/ a room full of Ghanaian women who are singing even though they've lost EVERYTHING that matters, my heart cannot accept that answer.  But I read something on my way home from Ghana that has stuck w/ me.  "Faith is ACCEPTING THE MYSTERY OF HARDSHIPS, MISTREATMENT, AND MISFORTUNE."  I may not understand, but I know Gods Word is absolute and truth.  His Word tells me that He holds us in the palm of His hands.  His Word tells me that He will provide.  His Word tells me that His ways are higher than my ways.  His Word tells me that He desires ALL to come to repentence.  And today I cannot help but meditate on Ps 22:24:

Psalm 22:24
For he has not despised or disdained the suffering of the afflicted one;he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.

This is my prayer for Japan today.  This is my prayer for the Gambaga women today.  This is my prayer for 17 children in an orphanage today.  This is my prayer FOR MYSELF today.  Although my problems are NOTHING compared to those around the world, they are, nonetheless, problems.  And God cares about even the smallest of things like a chocolate chip cookie that has caught fire in my oven.  Like the medical bill that came in the mail today that we're not sure how we'll pay.  Like the favorite toy that Charlee lost and has asked Jesus to help her find it.

I will choose to praise even if...

My cup overflows.

R.I.P. (a note from my sister, Wendy Nyhus)

The village of Nalerigu was nothing but organized mayhem and madness this afternoon.  Not only was it market day but a funeral procession like I've never seen.  Never mind the old lady died over a year ago and the fact that she was married to the previous chief caused for a great celebration.  In the States a funeral procession to the cemetery includes maybe two police escorts on their shiny motorcycles, additional long black cars to transport the family members and even though one cannot see it an ominous overhang of a dark sad cloud.  Tradition has it that one must wear black although I think we've fallen away somewhat from this.  Since it was market day and I needed to purchase supplies and foods for our kiddos at the orphanage I found myself smack dab in the middle of it before I knew what was going on.  My first thought as I witnessed a large lory carring a handful of people down Main Street was "Oh, this is nice…a little shopping music to enhance the experience”…when really the smell from the "butcher" shop would have done more than enough to enhance the experience by itself.  Drums are not unusual but I could sense something brewing in the air and it wasn't my body odor.  As the afternoon wore on so did the beating of the drums.  I noticed more and more people converging and as I made my way back to the lorry I was sandwiched in between a crowd on gawkers.  It was shoulder to shoulder.  Then I noticed one of our own BMC watchman in line dancing with the older chiefs.  I knew he was a chief and started asking what all this was about.  I will admit that I was happy to be in on the party until I noticed the dancing chiefs in line were being replaced with a string of young serious looking men in scrappy clothes carrying what looked to be handmade rifles.  My dear friend Manassah who is essentially my right hand man proceeds to laugh as he looks at me with a big grin.  Then in a happy voice explains, "Now Momma.  They are going to start shooting."  And, just as he says the "sshh" as in shooting a big ole' boom rattled my bones!  Now, why couldn't he have prepared me for this earlier?  I don't know but I about hit the deck.  I instinctively had felt this uneasy feeling before some years ago when I got caught at the South African/Swaziland boarder when a group of political demonstrators tried to sabotage my holiday to the Indian Ocean.  Unintentionally, I grabbed an old Swazi go-go (grandma) and together we hid ourselves under a shelf that is normally used to  fill out immigration papers.  Tear gas was being shot off left and right, people screaming and hollering.  So, once again, yours truly is stuck in the middle of madness but this time it wasn't necessarily directed at any group of people.  One by one the guns were fired into the ground with puffs of dirt flying hither and thither.  I was smart enough to realize that if I was patient I could ever so discreetly (well as discreetly as a white girl can be) make a run for it before the second round of shooting would begin.  Once there was a lull and I verified that I had not been shot I made a run for it.  That run ran me right into a bloody mess of a cow that was being slaughtered as part of the funeral celebration.  I didn't mind it at all except the young men were slicing the cow up right where I like to buy our powdered milk!  Once I got back to the truck and started driving to the BMC sure enough there was another unfortunate cow meeting his death.  I drove away thanking the LORD for two things.  Number one my arm hadn't been blown off and number two I wasn't a cow!  But, please! Won't somebody let that poor dead woman rest in peace?