The Rooster Cup

School starts tomorrow, signaling the end of summer-time fun. 

When I was a kid, one of my family’s summer traditions was to drive four hours north to Burt Lake.  On Burt Lake there used to be a cozy group of cabins called Holiday Homes.  The reddish-cabins were a bit small and outdated, but were cozy all the same and had kitchens and fireplaces.  The huge lake was pristine, shallow and warm.

Me and my older sister, Kelly, on the dock.

Several families always went up with us.  Every year some of my Mom’s sisters and brothers (she is one of ten children) families would fill up the five cabins.  A few times my grandparents would even drive up from Florida to spend the week with us.  It was a week of potlucks, catching crayfish and toads, swinging fast and high on the rope swing, watching my Uncle Kevin eat live minnows (once every year) and singing old church songs in front of one family’s fireplace while Uncle Blake played guitar. 

These are treasured memories.  But some of my favorite Burt Lake memories were planted in my brain while standing around the horseshoe pits.  Every year, we had a horseshoe tournament.  All the adults and kids were invited to try their luck at tossing their horseshoe closest to the stake more times than anyone else.

Now, since I was a kid, and my childhood memories are admittedly a bit foggy, I cannot tell you how long a tournament lasted, but it felt like days. 

The best part: watching my Grandpa play.  He had a fun way of being competitive but not at all mean-spirited.  On his turn, he would stride over to his mark, horseshoe in hand, and get his game face on.  After careful concentration he would release he horseshoe, wait for it to *clank* around the stake and then he would let out a rooster crow!  Not any mamby-pamby rooster crow either, but from the gut and with gusto.  (Think Peter-Pan.) Even now, I can’t help but smile at the thought of grandpa and his rooster crow.

At least once, my grandpa won the tournament, and someone had the idea to make a trophy for him.  The trophy was called The Rooster Cup.  The Rooser cup was passed to several different winners throughout the years.  I’m not sure who has it now – but I hope Grandpa does. 

 

Grandpa and Grandma. My inspirations.

 

My Grandpa is still going strong.  He’s 86 and writing a book.  My grandma looks sweet in this picture, doesn’t she?  She had such a beautiful and loving heart.  She passed a few years ago.   Grandma wrote a book too, called My Lord, My Shepherd.  I am amazed when I read through it and find that some of the pages seem familiar, like they could have been writen by myself.  We must have been at least a little similar.  She was a wise woman, a gentle dove.  Although I grew up many many miles from them, and may not know them as well as I’d like, I am very thankful for them.  Their inheritance is a blessed one.  I pray that my marriage will always be as strong as theirs, and that my life will always shine of Jesus’ love like their lives do.

What is one of your favorite summer tradition memories?

 

Tell of His goodness

Our pastor is a man I deeply respect. He walks with God in a way I have seen in very few people throughout my life. Our church has a time of testimonies every week – when people tell of the good things God has done, and a week ago, Pastor Mike asked Andrew if he and I would share a testimony the following Sunday. After some thought, and preparation, we did just that a few days ago. Andrew shared first, then me. The response was overwhelming. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Writing out a testimony is a very spiritual experience and I cannot help but get shaken up every time I read it. What follows is my portion of our testimony:

“I’ll start my story a few years ago. Andrew and I were leading a fairly comfortable life. We had two kids and a mortgage. We attended church regularly, and were involved with the youth and/or music ministries.

However, I began to develop issues of unforgiveness – I was judging others who, ironically, I felt were judging me unfairly. Going to church was no longer an enjoyable experience; I just did not want to be around all those people pretending to love me, while I was convinced that they didn’t.

Never did I consider that they may be loving me the best they knew how. I felt very alone. I was unhappy, yet I wasn’t reflecting on the fact that my unhappiness could be connected to this critical and unforgiving attitude I had.

Somehow, God got it through my thick skull that as long as I kept praying and reading the Bible, I would eventually find the peace I knew He wanted for me. After a while God revealed to me that I was missing something – namely His purpose and calling for me. My general distrust in people was jabbing was away at any effectiveness I could have representing Christ to others. He hadn’t called me to be the bitter woman I was becoming. He wanted more for me than barely surviving on each Sunday’s message, choked off from the love of my brothers and sisters in Christ.

I got on my knees – on my face – and prayed and wept, and God began to forgive my pride and heal my bitterness. My eyes opened and God gave to me the precious gift of a repentant heart. I was aware of the forgiveness that was available to me as a direct result of me forgiving others. Forgiving people who had hurt me and forgiving myself for how I acted in return, is an experience I will treasure always. Because truly, I was not free, and I had not been living until I was forgiven by Christ, who shed his blood for me.

That experience taught me something I thought I already knew: I cannot do Christianity on my own terms. Now that I had learned this lesson of forgiveness, it was clear that over the past few years, I had been settling for status quo Christianity, and I wanted a change. God called me to rise up, to be a woman of prayer, to give Him my all – and stop thinking I have to handle everything on my own. The only way I was going to feel alive again was through prayer and complete devotion to Him. For His great sacrifice of giving His son to die for my sins, I can give nothing less.

Instead of living for my own happiness, I want to be used by God to represent His shining light to people around me. I want my life to reflect God’s love. I have learned the beauty of loving people where they are at, and not expecting others to be perfect – anymore than I am perfect. It is not my place to judge anyone else, or his or her walk with God, but to place my trust in Him.

Andrew and I came together in prayer as we sought God for wisdom, grace and direction. He led us back to Woodlawn, the church we had left a couple years before. I was a very good thing.

I am so thankful God grabbed hold of us when He did. We have seen the power of prayer in our finances, in our children, in our relationships, and in our faith as it increases more than we could have thought possible. We were experiencing some serious financial struggles not too long ago and we prayed, and mediated on scriptures, and God blew away our expectations again and again.

And it’s all because of the power of prayer. When we are people of prayer, God can work in us and through us. The more I learn of his Grace, the more desperate I become for Him to use me.

I want to end with a scripture that has been on my mind the past couple weeks: Matt. 16:24-25 ‘Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.’ Amen!”

God is so holy, so good.

 

bits of my day

no where else in the world is there a neighborhood that gets more ice cream truck visits than us. we had four drive by tonight. my kids are going crazy and it’s not even june yet. “pleeeeeeeeeeease mom.” the pleading looks, and desperate body language. i’m sure my kids think that everyone but them gets ice cream from a truck every night. oh well. they get it a couple times a month. poor, poor deprived children.

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andrew’s getting some exercise tonight -mountain biking with his friend, jim. i love it when he gets to mountain bike – he always comes home stinky, sweaty and exhausted – but proud. i love to hear his subtle excitement when he tells me that he left someone in the dust on the straight paths. but i miss him when he’s gone. i am a selfish woman who likes him home with me as much a possible. but i hide it and i’m always pushing him out the door to hang out with friends and do things.

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landscaping is not my forte. i very much appreciate the beauty of a well-landscaped yard, but i feel stuck in a rut with my own. a few years ago i hastily planted a few things in the empty front yard – and it looks OKAY – but too crowded and squished up against the house. and not everything i planted is thriving. ?? yet i feel afraid to try and fix it because i know SO little about gardening – and i kill so much. and my backyard hasnt changed since we bought the house. nothing but grass framed by weeds. it’s a great country look. there are SOOO many weeds – and i dont want to spend lots on new plants – so i thought just leave it; it’s impossible. but lately i’m inspired to dig-in and do what i can. so i DUMPED weed killer all along the worst weed section today – and i’m hoping to start there with a pretty new bed of some inexpensive hard to kill, you-can-run-over-it-with-the-car hearty shade plants. it’s a start.

i’m tired today. there are toys everywhere, dishes in the sink, and laundry unfolded on my couch. and here i am blogging. yeesh. g’night.

 

Amazing Grace

how can i be so happy and content with who i am, and with life in general when i’m home with my family – and then so competely insecure when i step outside my house? i dont expect an answer. i just dont get it.

i went out twice this weekend for a friend’s birthday. it was fun. but weird. the first night i felt a bit akward and quiet. reserved but not wanting to be. and regreting my wallflower-likeness all the next day until we went out that next night, with more people, and i felt comletely opposite – like i was trying so hard to change the pattern of the night before that i was over the top and obnoxious. ugh. and i regretted all the way home and today. i dont know if i’ll ever get past the “what did they think of me tonight?” thoughts. “what did they see in me tonight that will drive them away?” i know the more i place my self-worth inthe hands of my Maker it should get better – but does it have to take so long? i’m impatient to the core.

it’s strange to me that i’ve had such strong self-doubting thoughts lately because i’m in an incredible time of life right now.

i can say with complete confidence that i have never experienced life to be as wonderful as it it right now. it’s weird – because financially – we’re broke as a joke. the worst ever maybe, but that hasn’t had any affect on my family. or maybe it’s one of the factors drawing us together. all i know is that i am more happy than i imagined possible and so very content. what seemed like a hopeless marital situation a year ago has turned into an almost dreamlike bliss. there are no words. i am so in love. i’ve learned how to love.

all i can say is thank you. thank you god. thank you to those who prayed for us. a few days ago i was overwhelmed with the realization that if it werent for the many people praying for andrew and i, not only would we not be in this new loving stage of marriage, but we just wouldn’t be together. i am blessed to be surrounded by friends and fanily who intercede for me, and my heart reaches out to those who are not also blessed in that way.

i am in a place of rest right now. a valley of peace, and mountaintop of victory. after the sweat and the tears, i want to stay here forever. i know i cant – but i’m enjoying the stay for now. what will tomorrow bring?

for today i am happy, and insecure, and freezing, and adoring my sick (but adorable) hubby lying on the couch next to me. life IS good.