Sunday, September 30, 2012

Happy Birthday, Jack

"I love my son and am proud of my son."

--Robert H. Schuller



Today I wish my precious first-born a happy eleventh birthday.

Dearest Jack, your smile lights up my life.

You are a worrier . . . 

Competitor . . .
 
Jokester . . .

Big brother . . .

Friend.


You are compassionate . . .

Sensitive . . .

Beautiful (I know you hate when I say that, but it's true) . . .

Athletic.


You are a challenge . . .

A joy . . .

My partner-in-crime . . .

My son.

I love you, buddy. Happy birthday. 


Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Forgive and Forget


“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;
Though they are red like crimson, they shall be as wool."

--Isaiah 1:18

My Mo had a little issue at school. Without going into a lot of details that would embarrass her, I'll tell you that she reacted poorly to a situation. She hurt a friend. And she immediately felt sorry for her actions, so she confessed to the teacher and apologized to her friend. Her fanny wasn't even buckled in the back seat after school before she tearfully relayed the whole story to me.

Okay, I thought, here is one of those teachable moments you read about handed to me on a silver-plated platter.

We talked about what she had done and why it was wrong. I praised her for taking responsibility for her actions. I prayed with her as she asked Jesus for forgiveness, and we talked about grace and having our sins washed clean.

I got home, patted myself on the back for a mommy job well done, and went on with my life. I even giggled about the situation as I shared the story with her grandmother.

But Mo continued to beat herself up over her error in judgment. She cried, wanted to write an official notarized letter of apology to her friend, fretted over whether her mistake was bad enough to land her on Santa's naughty list, tearfully prayed every night and apologized to me over and over and over . . .

That was about four days ago, and she is still talking about it. 

I keep telling her that if we confess and ask forgiveness, we can forget it. God doesn't hold our mistakes against us. I've hugged her tight and talked it out. And I've had a hard time understanding why she can't let it go.

But I'm guilty of the exact same thing.

I beat myself up over the same things over and over again. Things that I've confessed and prayed about. Things I know I've been forgiven for. But I can't seem to forgive myself.

What does that say?

Guilt is such a powerful thing. I know it is a tool used by the enemy to drive a wedge in my relationship with God. I know this.

I am a fairly forgiving person by nature. So why is it so hard to forgive myself?

How do you deal with guilt? Is guilt just as bad as the behavior that caused it?

I'm not sure, but I better pull it together. My children are watching my example. 

Friday, September 14, 2012

It's Been a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week


"Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward." 
--Kurt Vonnegut 

It hasn't been the best week. I'm sure some of it had to do with the fact that I've got a sinus thing happening. And I'm sure some more of it had to do with the fact that my husband is in Tokyo eating sushi, while I am here . . . also eating sushi . . . except mine came from the grocery store.

It's all been downhill from there.

So . . . I need to start working on a new check on the ol' bucket list.
Yes, a check. Like this one.
Any thoughts?

I need to be working toward something. I need something to look forward to. And no, I'm not quite ready to tackle the skydiving thing.

So, whaddya think? Is there anything you, my loyal readers (all both of you), would like to see me tackle next? Something on the list? Or something maybe I haven't thought of yet?

I need a challenge. Help me out. Until I hear from you, I'll be cleaning. And that's no fun.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

An Invitation . . . A Plea . . . to My Facebook Friends

"Social networking helps reach people easier and quicker."


--Bill Cosby

I have decided that I am a prisoner to Facebook. And it doesn't have anything to do with the Timeline, which I hate. There's just too much going on there. Between the apps and the games and the pictures and the political manifestos, it's just too much. I can't get to the info I need.

I log in to Facebook wanting to find out whose kids are in what grade, who's getting married/divorced, who's having babies, who died, and who got fat. And I want to be able to send a quick message to groups of people easily. That's pretty much it.

I want to break up with Facebook, but it's the social medium that most of my friends use. I'm stuck. I want to stay connected to my people. As soon as the majority of my friends are on Twitter and/or Instagram, I am leaving Facebook forever.

So, please, people, I am begging: Join me on Twitter and/or Instagram. It's so happy on Twitter. You can look through 5,000 tweets in a few minutes, 'cause they're only 140 characters. If you have something to say that takes more characters than that, send an email, start a blog. You don't have to read what your first-grade teacher's niece's dog has done unless you really want to. If you have something important to say, link to it, and then whoever wants to read it is free to do so. On Instagram, you can post and view all the pictures your precious little heart desires. And if you love Facebook, you can link your accounts to Facebook, and all your info travels from one app to the next seamlessly.

It's all so polite.

I don't usually rant on things. Maybe it's the cloudy weather, maybe it's the fact that I have the sniffles. I love staying in touch with friends young and old. I just don't want to do it on Facebook anymore. <crosses arms across chest and pouts>

My media of choice are Twitter (http://www.twitter.com/kbroddey) and Instagram (http://followgram.me/kbroddey).


Please, join me. We have candy.