Transformation

I had intended on writing a long essay, replete with pictures and anecdotes, about my year in 2010. 

Then, I decided to have mercy on you (and my future self)

and make it shorter, and sweeter.

A couple of years ago, there was this trend to pick one word that would challenge yourself in the new year

in leiu of making a New Year's Resolution.

(Maybe it's still the trend. I don't know. Maybe this year it's two words, or three. I am bad at keeping up with trends. If you know the New Year's trend for 2011, let me know.)

The word I chose at the end of 2009, that I hoped would define my following year, was

transformation.

Now, I didn't really think through this or pray about it. I really just did it because, as is the case with most trends, everyone else was doing it.

I am such a follower.

Transformation is an awesome word and all, but I didn't have any plans about to how to transform myself or be transformed or even what I wanted to be transformed about.

I did see the Transformers movies. The first was much better than the second, in my opinion.

That had nothing to do with my decision to choose the word transformed as my one word in 2010.

Though if I did have to transform into a car, I would definitely be silver, and most definitely have leather heated seats. I love heated seats.

Anyway, if you read my blog this past year, then maybe you experienced some of it with me, in a sense.

This transformation.

Because I realized that transforming, in a nutshell, means changing.

And you can't change, or transform, if you just,

well,

stay where you are.

Not everyone has to move to a new city, like I did this year.

Not everyone has to experience transition and uncertainty and a bit of upheaval,

not everyone has to feel lonely, in order to be transformed.

But it's funny that what I asked for, unintentionally, I got.

Transformation.

And I realized that I would rather continually uproot my comfort and false sense of security

in order to shake up my faith and strengthen my dependence on the Rock of my Salvation,

than to stay where I am and feel comfortable

but never change.

Transformation.

Now, I haven't yet decided on my "one word" for 2011.

But the more I ponder it, I am leaning toward

gratitude.

A year to open my eyes, ears, and heart to the many, many blessings around me

no matter where it is that I am calling home.

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

Romans 12:2

 And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

2 Cor 3:18

Merry Little Christmas

 We spent Christmas this year with Joe's parents in Johnson City.

Christmas Eve we took the girls to a "family friendly" (read: very noisy with children)

Christmas Eve service at a local church.

Abby was super excited about her own candle. Which wasn't really hers, but she claimed it.

The girls took turns bouncing around the pews to each adult. (Me, Joe, Pop and Meme). I had to take this picture of both girls sitting on Joe's lap. (AK polished off pretty much an entire candle.)(That can't be good for the digestion.)

Later that night we went home

and we gave the girls their traditional Christmas Eve pajamas. When Abby opened them (while AK watched, confused) she said. "What! These aren't a present!!"

I purchased these pj's last year in an after Christmas sale. They have been hanging in the girls' closets for almost a year. Abby has even asked to wear hers every once in a while.

I guess she was confused to see them passed off as a gift! Maybe next year I'll do a better job of hiding the Christmas pj's.

Our Christmas morning was white with snow flurries. It was perfect! 

John, Joe's younger brother, and his wife Ashley joined us for Christmas morning.

After reading the Christmas story, we gave Abby and Ak their stockings from Santa (just some very small things, like silly bandz that Abby had asked for, and a baby doll for Audrey Kate).

Then we ATE!

I think the Pioneer Woman Cinnamon Rolls were enjoyed by all.

For Christmas, Abby got a "puppy that walks on a leash" and a dollhouse as her big gifts. AK got a new table for our play room! She loves sitting in the little chairs.

The next morning we awoke to a large blanket of fluffy white snow.

John, Ashley and Abby preparing to sled down the front hill.

Me, Joe and Abby.

Audrey Kate went down with Uncle John.

We still aren't sure if she liked it.

It was a very sweet Christmas, with time to reflect on our Saviour's birth, and spend time with family, made much more perfect with all the snow.

Now we still have Christmas with MY family, who are joining us here in Knoxville.

So, only 363 days until next Christmas!

Are you ready?

Merry Christmas

Joe and I laugh every time we look at these two pictures.

"My First Christmas" pictures of both girls, exactly the same age (5 months), exactly 3 years apart.

One smiling happily, one with a suspicious look on her face.

(In fact, we joke that AK looked at us like we were crazy for the first 8 months, at least.)

{A journey through Christmases past}

2007 Abby 16 months

2008 Abby 2 1/2

(yes, all those presents were for her. ha!)

(only kidding, I think)

2009 Abby and AK 3 years, 5 months.

I thought and thought and thought about sending out cards this year.

But the mere thought of addressing and stamping those cards sent me into a stress induced coma.

So I, probably wisely so, decided not to send out Christmas cards.

But if I had...

Merry Christmas, friends!

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.

 Luke 2:14

And I baked

I try to do all my baking in one or two days.

Because?

I am quite possibly the messiest baker in the history of all baking.

So, I just make one gigantic mess, and then I'm done with it until next year!

But I have a reasonable suspicion that those cinnamon rolls will be de-lish.



Luke 2:10-17

Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in strips of cloths and lying in a manger.

The First Snow

She is asking more and more complex questions as she grows older. Thoughtful questions. Questions that, oftentimes, make me cringe inwardly.

Why do we need to buy gifts for other boys and girls for Christmas? Don't they have someone to give them presents?

I read her the story of the first Christmas. (The TRUE Christmas story.)

And as I read, "... a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph..."

I hesitate slightly, anticipating the awkward question that is to come.

But the moment passes quickly, and she pushes the unknown aside.

For the time being, at least, she chooses naivety.

And for the time being, at least, I am relieved.

Later that morning, she twirls in the first snowfall of the year, arms lifted high and tongue out, catching the tiny flakes.

It is simple, and innocent, pure like the white snow itself. A place I remember being once, thanks to parents who offered a safe haven for me to revel in childhood. A place I would often trade for, if I could. A place I hope for her to stay as long as possible.

As she twirls, I am lost in thought. Thoughts of days to come.

One day, she will ask me the hardest questions of all.

One day, she will read The Diary of Anne Frank, and she will ask me how something like that could have ever happened.

One day, she will ask me why parents abandon their children.

One day, she will ask me why millions are starving, and dying of Aids and Malaria, in third world countries.

One day, she will ask me why friendships are so hard.

One day, she will ask me why bitterness is easier than forgiveness, and why hate is easier than love, and why gratefulness is harder to find than complaint.

One day, she will ask me why women choose to kill their unborn children.

One day, she will ask me if she really, truly matters.

One day, she will ask me why some children don't have parents.

One day, she will ask me about war and violence.

One day, she will ask me to please take away the hurt of lost love.

One day, she will ask me why work is hard.

One day, she will ask me why brothers don't speak and families are torn apart.

One day, she will ask me about slavery, and apartheid, and Civil Rights.

One day, she will ask me why babies die in their loving mothers' arms.

One day, she will ask me how someone could be so cruel.

One day, she will ask me why sorrow and suffering are everywhere.

One day, she will ask me how she can make a difference.

One day, she will ask me where God is in all of this.

One day, she will ask me where her innocence went.

I will tell her all that I know and have learned.

Mostly, I will listen. Mostly I will say,

 I just don't know.

But that God is good, even when it doesn't seem that way.

One day, she will begin her own journey of choosing forgiveness or anger, love or hate, hope or despair.

And as I watch her twirl, I ache just a little knowing that

one day

she will lose this.

But for now...

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1:17

Because I am still striving to be grateful...

121. rainy days
122. hot apple cider
123. health
124. living close to family
125. living far away from family
126. my children's innocence
127. vacation with family
128. little girl bent over an art project
129. little girls running to daddy when he gets home
130. child-like wonder
131. sharing the gospel with my children
132. heaters
134. wrestling to understand God and His ways
135. writing
136. good finances
137. a new dress
138. boots
139. the first snow
140. sweet naivity
141. icicles on the roof
142. playing icicle swords
143. frosty breath
144. baking Christmas cookies together
145. deep, hard to answer questions from a 4-year-old
146. Christmas lights on a tree
147. reminiscing about each ornament
148. hot chocolate with marshmallows
149. Christmas carols in the car
150. baby girl asleep, heavy on my shoulder

Date Day

She has been talking about this day for the past week. Joe told Abby last weekend that he was going to take her on a special daddy-daughter date.

They go out a lot together, and spend lots of time alone, but they've never really gone on a "date" per se.

Joe came out of our room with no shoes on and his hair in crazy spikes all over his head.

He said, "Abby! I'm ready to go!"

She wagged her finger at him, looked very stern (and mother-ly, I might add), and said, "NO! You are not ready. Go brush your hair and put on shoes!"

That's my girl! I told her she could never go on a date with someone who didn't brush his hair or have on shoes. I'm trying to set high standards here.

(I am biased, but I can't get over how gorgeous my little girl is becoming! The hubs isn't so bad, either!)

They are going to do some Christmas shopping, go to a lunch of her choice (I'm thinking Chick-Fil-A) and see a movie together.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I'm home alone with a rampaging toddler,

who has so far managed to

dump cornstarch all over the floor,

and as I was cleaning that up, she 

dumped basil on the floor,

she has also managed to throw her breakfast,

cry a lot,

empty out a cabinet,

call my brother in Louisiana at 7 AM (on a Saturday)(Sorry Andrew!),

take down some Christmas decorations,

have a dirty diaper,

fall 243234 times,

have 675675 snotty nose wipes,

empty out my laundry basket,

and...

this picture was taken right before she started eating the Christmas Tree lights.

Sigh.

And I had high hopes for today!

I was going to have a spotless house and begin baking the

Pioneer Woman's cinnamon rolls.

(With my early Christmas gift! Yay! Santa brought me a new Kitchen Aid mixer

and he even said I could use it early

because he really loves the

Pioneer Woman's cinnamon rolls.)

High expectations aside, I have a feeling I'll be hanging out with this:

all day long.

And keeping her from world-destruction.

You can thank me later.

Why the UPS man hates me

I have done nearly all of my Christmas shopping this year on-line.  I think that on-line shopping is my favorite thing of all.

To me, there is nothing more rewarding than sitting at my computer desk, clicking a button, and having a package come to my front door. All I have to do is walk from my computer to the door and

wha-lah!

shopping done.

Well, the package doesn't come until a few days later, and I don't sit at my computer desk until the package actually arrives. I do other things, too, inbetween package recieving.

My UPS man, however, probably wouldn't agree with my on-line shopping delight.

This is a picture of our current front lawn. It is practically a straight-up hill.

I LOVE it!

Everytime my doorbell rings in the late afternoon, I just know it is the UPS man (or Fed-Ex, I don't delivery discriminate)

and the girls and I run to the door, not just to see what package has arrived,

but also to watch the delivery man puff back up the hill to his truck.

Oh, we laugh. How we laugh!

I find that I am doing a service to the community of delivery truck drivers. It's probably difficult to get exercise driving around in a truck all day long.

In fact, I should probably start charging a training fee to all delivery men (or women...again, not discriminating) who have to hike our hill. I'm practically like a personal trainer.  Next time I get a package, I'll yell out the door, "You can do it! Great work. Now, walk it out!"

If you want to send me a package (as long as it's really cool stuff), I"ll go halfsies with you.

In other news, I'm done with my Christmas shopping.

Just waiting on those last few packages to be delivered.

How the Toddler Stole Christmas

I really hate to be the one to break it to you,

but Christmas has been pushed back a bit this year.

Well, at least she didn't cancel it all together!

Is there such thing as a Baking Handicap?

You know, like in golf when each player has a handicap?

I asked Joe to explain a golf handicap to me once, and mostly what I understood it to mean was

Nope. I still don't really understand it.

Except that it creates a way for a really bad golfer to play against a really good golfer and have a chance to actually win.

I've decided that I need a baking handicap.

Somehow in our move I lost one of the beaters to my electric mixer. I haven't replaced it yet, so everything I make that calls for a whirl with the electric mixer has only been half beaten.

It really just isn't quite the same as having two beaters, you know?

I keep thinking I should just buy a new electric mixer, but I am holding out for one of these bad boys:

Oh yes. Isn't that beautiful?
My sister told me that I should stop mixing things all together, and maybe someone in my household would notice and take pity...

If I added all the ingredients to my husband's favorite cake, and put it in the oven on 350 for 30 minutes, without mixing,

I wonder if he would say anything when I served it to him?

Or would he just smile and pretend to eat it, until I looked away, and then feed it to the dog?

He would just be thinking

"Oh, Ellen, dear sweet Ellen,

she's good at so many other things.

She just has a 40 baking handicap, so I must go easy on her.

And, of course, purchase her a new, shiny and expensive stand mixer. Of course."

Nope, I don't see any flaws in that plan at all.

So, let operation "New Mixer" begin!

Tonight for dinner: Homemade pepperoni pizza, hot from the oven, with un-mixed pizza dough! yum!

 

ps. I, umm, don't really have a dog. Actually.

FREE to a good home...

**Yay! It found a good home!!**

See? I'm putting my PUBLIC blog to good use =)

I recently ordered some shirts for my girls, and I got Audrey Kate's back

only it said

AuBrey.

SO, the order is being corrected.

In the meanwhile,

I have a shirt,

free to a good home,

size 18 months,

with the name

Aubrey.

Any takers?

A Woman's Prerogative?

After deciding to go private, and then getting emails and comments from people to be added to the "private" (exclusive, special, amazing)

list of blog readers

I realilzed that probably close to half of all the people were those I have either:

never met in person

or

haven't seen in years.

It occurred to me in a very tangible way that this blog has been a catalyst for relationship and rediscovering friendships.

Going private would most definitely take away that aspect of and benefit to blogging publically.

Not to mention, to a much lesser degree, it would be much less covenient to

comment on other blogs when they didn't have access to mine,

enter giveaways when they couldn't see who it was being given to,

advertise for friends or even strangers who had made or done fabulous things for me.

Also, I find it important to share my faith, and the Gospel,

with a lost and struggling world

(or Internet, as it were).

Not to mention, though I am going to mention it, the daunting task of manually entering all those email addresses,

while also trying to remember all the addresses that were not sent to me

(ahem, mom?)

seemed a bit overwhelming in a season of my life that already feels a bit,

well,

overwhelmed.

All this to say that I have decided to hold off on going private for now.

I still want to focus differently.

I don't want do be consumed by things that have no eternal value.

My family needs my 100%.

I live in a hurting, hungry world

and I am SO very blessed.

I want to give in ways that matter.

So, can you forgive me a little change of heart? Or mind?

It is, after all,

a woman's prerogative.

--------And NOW back to our regularly scheduled blogging program---------

It's beginning to look a lot like Chaos...

Everywhere I go.

Christmas Chaos, that is.

Boxes of ornaments and decorations,

Little fingers helping to decorate,

Manger-less babies,

Mis-placed Santa hats,

Staff-less shepherds,

Lost sheep.

Super glue and I have become fast friends these past couple of days.

(Get it? Fast? Oh, I'm hilarious.)

Some things I have managed to put away quite nicely, however.

 In fact, I consider myself D-O-N-E with Christmas decorating this year. I forewent the Christmas Tree in the dining room. It made me too tired to think about decorating that one.

Though, I'm pretty sure there is a hide and seek game going on between Santa and the Snowman.

And I think I'm IT.

I don't know yet.

I'll let you know for sure when I find them!