Toilet Paper Prayer

You know some months are just harder than others, right? Some moments are just harder than others. At least that is true for me.

A few weeks ago I was in one of those hard months with plenty of hard moments. There were times I wanted nothing more than to cry UNCLE! every second of every day with every breath I took.

That was the time when my debit card was on life support, and I was out of cash. And we had three rolls of toilet paper and two weeks until pay day. I wondered if I would need to use some of my rationed savings to get more before we ran out completely.

I decided against it. Because three double rolls and two weeks, surely a little family of 4 could make it work, right? Especially since 3 of us were out of the house for the better part of every day.

Piece of cake.

But I have girls. Teen age girls. Girls who think they need to use a plethora of toilet paper. In less than a full week we had blown through all three rolls. One roll didn’t even last 24 hours.

This Momma wasn’t happy. At all.

I informed my family, mostly my offspring, that I would not be purchasing more toilet paper until Friday. Not going to do it. We have kleenex, use that. Momma isn’t spending another penny.

Thirty-six hours later I found myself praying for of all things, toilet paper. I listed out my needs to in prayer, and topping the list was toilet paper. Toilet paper that my children squandered. Toilet paper that is not a necessity of life, a nice feature don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of toilet paper. But it isn’t vital to my life, especially when we had other things we could use just as well.

But I prayed for toilet paper. I didn’t pray that God would supply us with toilet paper. I just listed it as a need. Along with cereal. And something equally mundane that now escapes my memory.

I somehow knew that this would be a monumental prayer and it would have massive consequences. I knew in some ways this would be a day of turning for me.

The day wore on and I occasionally thought about my toilet paper prayer but mostly I forgot about it. When it came to mind, I mostly thought what a dumb thing to pray about.

That afternoon, I picked up my leather jacket to hang it up when I remembered I had noticed a piece of paper in the inner pocket when I put my phone away  in there earlier. It was an old folded, receipt from Hobby Lobby. Curious I unfolded it to see what I had purchased and when.

That’s when I saw it.

A fresh, crisp ten dollar bill.

“Oh Lord! That is You.”

And God said, “toilet paper.”

And I said, “Yarn and coffee.”

God said, “toilet paper.”

Every time I thought of that ten dollars, I heard God say, “toilet paper”. I argued some more. Why exactly I’m not sure. Immediately when I saw it I knew what it was for. God kept just saying, “toilet paper.”

Then He changed, “Be faithful.” and I was reminded of the verse about being faithful in small things and I would be found faithful in big things.

If toilet paper isn’t a small thing I’m not sure what is. Talk about your mundane, small things. Not necessary. Not vital. Not a real need.

This taught me one very important lesson. One I had known before but not KNOWN. I knew it was true, but now I experientially know it to be true. This is one lesson I won’t soon forget.

God notices. God cares. God provides.

Why do we think something is too mundane to pray for? That God really doesn’t notice or care about that? Expect God to provide for something we’ve squandered, something we could have purchased for ourselves without a second thought but we chose not to?

Those are the very things we have to pray for if we ever hope to see God work in the big things. These are the prayers God loves to answer. Those prayers that say, “God, here is my need. You have the supply. I’m just going to sit here and watch You work on my behalf.”

He shows up big. And my faith grows big. And the next time I need toilet paper, I’ll know I can come to Him with my mundane need and find His supply.

Friend, if I can ask Him and trust Him for toilet paper, what makes you think you can’t ask and trust Him with the needs of your heart? Dear friend, He does the same for you! I’m not His favorite. He doesn’t show up big for me because He carries my picture in His wallet. He loves to show up for anyone who in humble boldness comes to Him with their need; leaves it at His feet, and watches in eager anticipation for His supply.

So go ahead, take your mundane prayers and your big ones, to His throne and you will find grace to help you in your time of need.

Trust me.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

That is what I named my calendar today. Not that I think it truly is a series of Unfortunate events, not all. But it’s just a funny name for a calendar.

I’m not a very organized person. I’m usually pretty happy if my socks match. And are folded. In the drawer. My oldest wonders how on earth I’ve lived this long without being “properly” organized. She takes Type-A to a whole new level. And that is okay. She refuses me the privilege of putting my books away on the bookshelf.

“Why?” you ask. Because I find a spot the book will fit in and there it stays. Not her. She organizes them all alphabetically by author and series.

School has started and with that our schedule has returned to it’s normal pace. Only this year we added a few things to our schedule.

The 11 year old plays volleyball with our local Christian school. She’s had two practices so far and her first game is Wednesday. I plan on being one of “those Momma’s” who attend every single game. But I won’t be the yelling kind.

The girls are also taking a couple of classes with a homeschool cooperative. Not many. In fact just 2, both will take one and the oldest will take another one.

In working out our schedule on the calendar I was struck by a flash of genius. Why don’t I color code our activities. That way we can see at a glance who has what, when and where.  In the words of the oldest child living in my house, “Momma! This is probably the more organized thing you’ve ever done!”

I fear she is probably correct. Which is why she is still living at this moment.

The above photo of my calender (minus a few events) was posted on facebook and has garnered quite the comments. I’ve been blessed by friends commenting different apps and calendars that they have found useful.

I spent the better part of the morning sitting here working on the calendar, first in long hand and then using google calendar. Now I’m going to try some of the other apps. I’m not pleased with how google calendar looks on my phone.

How do you keep track of your family’s activities?

Time is a changing.

Lately, I’ve been pondering the changes to my own little personage over the past number of years. I’ve shed some habits, gained some new ones. I’ve forgotten many things, learned some new things.  I’m finding a new comfort in my old skin.

It all started a few months ago. I had somehow along the path of adulthood lost contact with family members. Family members who don’t live too far away. Family members I used to see all the time, now it seemed years has passed without a conversation. When I say years, I don’t mean years….I mean YEARS. Like a decade.

I loaded the girls and our over night bags into the van, and we headed southwest of here to visit family. Family they only vaguely knew. Family I grew up seeing at least once a month

While we there I was chatting with my aunt, and she said something that surprised me. She said I was gutsy. At least I think that is the word she used. When I was 19, I was living on my own, had a ready-made career, and so I did not move from here when the rest of my family did.

It was nothing I had ever thought of before.

That conversation has often replayed in my mind in the weeks since.  I’ve realized I do march to the beat of a different drummer.

And as I’m getting older, my beat keeps changing.

When I was a child, I loved nothing more than carrying purses. Now if I can grab my driver’s license and keys alone, I’m happy. I almost detest purses.

I was not a fan of jeans at all. Tee-shirts too. Ugh. Now I’m the most comfortable in a pair jeans and a tee-shirt. If I could go everywhere in jeans, tee-shirt, and tennies (or slip slops) I would.

I was not a fan of yard work. Neither were my parents, so it was only sometimes I would have to do yard work. Usually when I got in trouble. Or my parents didn’t want to pull weeds.  Now I am happiest in the summer when playing in the dirt and/or doing yard work. I dearly love to mow the grass.

I loved cloudy, cold days. LOVED them. Now I think, “ehh, who needs it?” My soul craves the sunshine, like a smoker craves nicotine. I need it. I can handle a day or two of clouds, but anymore than that and my attitude goes down the toilet, I get so sleepy. A crabby and sleepy Momma…is no one’s friend.

I love my 4″ heels. LOVED them. I wore them 6 out of 7 days. Now? Nah. Just give me a pair of comfy runnings shoes and I’m beyond happy.

I’m not sure exactly what is beyond happy…but that’s me.

 

School Daze

This week starts our new school year.  I’ve spent some time contemplating and pondering the age old question, “where has the time gone?”

It seems only yesterday I was teaching my oldest how to read while her little sister slept. Or mostly didn’t sleep but at least was otherwise occupied.

HOLY COW! I just realized I have been doing some kind of school for 10 years!  I have been teaching my children for over 13 years, but only school type teaching for 10.

Ten years of piling books on the kitchen table and all sitting around it. Ten years of teaching the basics of reading, ‘ritin’ and ‘rithmetic.

Ten years of giggles and tears at the dining room table. Ten years of concepts grasped, new things caught, understanding dawning.  Ten years of my wondering if they will ever learn it. Ten years of pondering my success as a homeschooling parent. Ten years of wondering just how much I’m warping my children. Ten years of pondering how much I’ll have to save for their sessions with the psychologist when they’re older.

Ten years.

And yet I can see God’s hand in it all. And for that, I remain forever grateful. Without Him, the psychologist bills would be infinitely higher, tears would outweigh the giggles, success would be failure.

First day of school:

6th Grade!

8th grade

 

Class by myself.

 

Second day:

 

 

Ready to rumba!

 

 

 

Of Manners and Cute Boys

Or “Chivalry isn’t dead, it’s just not taught.”

My children help out at our local MOPS meetings with the MOPPETS program. This past Tuesday as I was waiting in the hall for my youngest to  be done, a little boy peeked around the door at me.  I can almost promise you I had never seen a cuter little two-year old boy in all my life.  I smiled and said “hi”, he pulled his head back in the room after shooting me a killer grin.

When his mom arrived to pick him up, I told her I thought her boy was incredibly cute. She expressed her gratitude and then said to the boy, “Can you shake her hand?”  I thought it was a strange request of her to make, most momma’s have their children give hugs. The little boy stuck out his hand, so I, of course, did the same. We shook hands and then his Momma said, “Now what do you do?”

I,of course was at a complete loss for words. What do you do after shaking hands? He was not unaware, he knew exactly what she meant, and he ever so gently turned my hand over and placed the sweetest, softest kiss on the back of my hand.

His Momma told me they were teaching him how to treat girls. And I think that’s fine, mighty fine indeed.

Pearl Girls Post 4

Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series – a week long
celebration of moms and mothering. Each day will feature a new post by some of
today’s best writer’s (Tricia Goyer, Sheila Walsh, Suzanne Woods Fisher, Bonnie St.John, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on
Mother’s Day.

AND … do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful hand crafted
pearl necklace. To enter, just {CLICK
THIS LINK} and fill out the short form. Contest runs 5/6-5/13 and the
winner will on 5/14. Contest is only open to US and Canadian residents.

If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit www.pearlgirls.info and see what we’re all about. In
short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in
the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of Pearl Girls: Encountering
Grit, Experiencing Grace or one of the Pearl Girls™ products (all GREAT
Mother’s Day gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.

And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!

What I
Am Not by Tricia Goyer

Becoming a mother is a complicated thing. Not only am I trying to negotiate a
relationship with my child, I am trying to negotiate a relationship with myself as
I attempt to determine how I mother, how I feel about mothering, how I want to
mother and how I wish I was mothered.

— Andrea J. Buchanan, in Mother Shock3

Sometimes the easiest way to discover who we are is to know who we are not.

• We are not our children. We all know mothers who go overboard trying
to make themselves look good by making their children look great. I saw one woman
on the Oprah television show who had bought her preschool daughter more than
twelve pairs of black shoes just so the girl could have different styles to go with her
numerous outfits! Just as we -don’t get report cards for mothering, we also -don’t get
graded on our child’s looks or accomplishments. While you want your children to
do their best and succeed in life, your self-esteem -shouldn’t be wrapped up in your
child.

Life as I See It:

My individuality will never end. There will be no one exactly like me, not even
my child. She will be like me in some ways, but not at all in others. I -wouldn’t have
it any other way.

— Desiree, Texas

• We are not our mothers. I remember the first time I heard my mother’s
voice coming out of my mouth. The words “because I told you so .  .  .” escaped before
I had a chance to squelch them.

It’s not until we have kids that we truly understand our mothers — all their frets,
their nagging, and their worries.

It’s also then that we truly understand their love.

Since you are now a mother, it’s good to think back on how you were raised. If there
were traditions or habits that now seem wise and useful, incorporate them into your
parenting. You also have permission to sift out things you now know -weren’t good.
Just because you’re a product of your mother, that -doesn’t mean you have to turn
out just like her. Repeat after me, “I am not my mother.”

• We are not like any other mother out there. Sometimes you may feel
like the world’s worst mother. After all, your friend never yells at her son —
and sometimes you do. Then again, your friend may feel bad because you have
a wonderful bedtime routine that includes stories and songs. In many cases, the
moms you feel inferior to only look like they have it together. All moms feel they –
don’t “measure up.” Instead of feeling unworthy, we should realize that everyone
has strengths and weaknesses. The key is where we place our focus.

The Bible says, “Let’s just go ahead and be what we were made to be, without .
.  . comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we -aren’t”
(Romans 12:5 – 6, MESSAGE).

The problem with comparison is, we always measure our weaknesses
against the strengths of others.

Instead, we need to thank God for our strengths. We can also ask God to help us
overcome our weaknesses — not because we want to compare ourselves, or look
good in someone else’s eyes, but because we want to be the best mom out there.

###

Tricia Goyer is a CBA best-selling author and the winner of two American
Christian Fiction Writers’ Book of the Year Awards (Night Song and Dawn of
a Thousand Nights). She co-wrote 3:16 Teen Edition with Max Lucado and
contributed to the Women of Faith Study Bible. Also a noted marriage and parenting
writer, she lives with her husband and children in Arkansas. You can find her
online at www.triciagoyer.com or at her weekly radio show, Living Inspired.

Exciting News – the latest Pearl Girls book, Mother of Pearl: Luminous Legacies
and Iridescent Faith will be released this month! Please visit the Pearl Girls Facebook
Page (and LIKE us!) for more information! Thanks so much for your support!

Boy-ish Conversations make me stubborn

This past Sunday I was manning my post at the Welcome Center when I heard a voice say, “Yeah, well I’m telling dad!” And the following conversation ensued,

“He’s not here.”
“I know. But when he gets here I’m telling. You’re supposed to stay with Scott.”
The girl who spoke first looked at me and said, with all of her 2nd grade wisdom, “Brothers annoy me.”

Now I happen to know she has two brothers and so I asked, “Younger or older?”
“Both. They all just annoy me.”
“Oh. Because they’re boys?”
“Yeah. I’m just going to sit here and wait for my mom.”
“She’s not here either?”
“No.”
“Did you walk?” I smiled when I asked her this, she lives about 15 miles away. But honestly the joke was lost on her.
“No. My dad dropped us off, he had a service call. He only gets those on Sunday. Never on Monday or any other day, just on Sunday. And it makes me so STUBBORN!”

So what makes you so stubborn?

Pray for those left behind.

I used to blog all the time…like every day. Then writer’s block struck with a vengeance and I took a break from blogging for a few years. I would write a blog post every now and again but it wasn’t anything like I had been doing.

This year I have gotten back into it. I plan on not posting on the weekends. Because since my children are older now, I don’t have the amount of blog fodder I once had.

But I find myself on a Friday night with nothing better to do than blog. Man that makes me sound rather pathetic.

Tomorrow the family of FullCup embarks on a new adventure. We will go where no one in our families have ever gone before.

Tomorrow the family of FullCup will pick up an 11 year old girl name Yingyuan and she will live with us for the next 4 months. Yingyuan will be attending our local Christian school as an exchange student. We are beyond thrilled that our little homeschooling family was chosen as a host family.

The students (there are 10 with 3 sponsors) have been prayed for. The host families have been prayed for. And that is a good thing. But I think the families left behind also need prayed for. Yingyuan is an only child who lives with her Mother. I can’t imagine, I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around my child being gone for 4  months. I can’t fathom knowing she is half a world away in another country. A country I’ve never been to.

Please pray for Yingyuan, the family of FullCup but please also pray for Yingyuan’s family that was left behind.

Christmas Past

Another Christmas has come and gone. Each year I promise myself, if not my whole family, that this year will be different. This year will be the year I just sit back and enjoy the whole season like I did when I was responsibility free urchin. This year I won’t get caught up in the hustle and bustle of life in the United States during Christmas.

It never seems to really happen though. It is almost as if I was destined to not follow through.  Every year on December 26 I realize anew that this is really the day to get all of next year’s Christmas gifts. Not only is everything ridiculously inexpensive (inexpensive because it sounds so much better than “cheap”), you can be completely done with Christmas 364 days early. Now that’s a great idea.

Of course I would completely forget I had already bought all the Christmas gifts and I’d misplace them as I put them someplace that made sense on the day after Christmas.  Shoot this year I bought a gift in early December for a family member and I had completely forgotten I had already bought it so I bought and made another gift.  To be honest and not-quite-so-humble the one I made was a much better gift.

I wonder how and who started the tradition of asking what everyone got for Christmas. And why do we feel the inane need to answer? I don’t know. So I won’t bore with the whole “I got a leer jet, a vacation house in the south of France, what did you get” as if you could in any way, shape or form compete with my plethora of gifts. But I will say for the first time in a very very long time I received money for Christmas.

Money, now that is something I’d asked for in years past. I thought it would be the ideal, perfect gift. What could be better than money to buy what I really want? Not much in my mind. But I found out, I was horribly wrong. Don’t misunderstand me, I have no intention whatsoever of returning this money. But it isn’t easy to spend it.

What if I buy something that I think I want now, only to later find something I really, really want and the money is gone? That would be truly tragic. At least in my mind.  I have thought of a hundred fifty different things to spend it on and have rejected every single one of them for one reason or another.  I was telling my family about my dilemma last night and they all were very helpful with ideas of how to spend it. But I could shoot down every suggestion.  At one point my 11year old told me I should buy something I want, not something I need. I agreed wholeheartedly. She went on to say that Dave Ramsey had “ruined” me. In a sense, she’s right. I never had much trouble B.D. (before Dave) spending money.

(And I must, please, beg your forgiveness because she would be quick to point out, she is 11 and a half not just 11)

My 9 year old told me I should buy “a lot more Christmas ornaments for the tree.” I had to tell her that as wonderful a suggestion as that was, it just wasn’t going to happen because I am determined to be incredibly selfish with this money and spend it all on something that is just MINE.

I’m selfish that way. As the Momma and wife of this house, generally my gifts have been along the lines of items for the whole family. While the next Momma/wife/woman of the house might not mind that at all, this one does.  You see, I’ve read Gary Chapman‘s book, The Five Love Languages and I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I am bi-lingual when it comes to love. Everyone has one “main” love language that they both need and speak, they will need/like/want the others but only one main language tells them they are deeply loved when it is spoken to them.

Me? I have two. I crave love and time. I need both to feel truly and deeply loved. If you shove a gift at me, but don’t spend time, I won’t necessarily feel loved. And the reverse is also true, if you spend time with me but don’t give a gift, I won’t feel loved. I know, I’m demanding and high maintenance.

I have digressed. When this Momma/wife/woman of the house, gets a gift that everyone in the house can use/benefit from and isn’t mine alone, I don’t feel loved.

There I’ve said it. Now everyone that has ever given me a gift I’ve had to share now feels incredibly guilty,but only if they read this. I’m not denying that I’ve loved the dishes I’ve received (and asked for), the sheets, the heaters. I have loved them and I use them every day. I’m not exactly sure how much I’ll use the space heater that looks like a fireplace in the summer, but you know the others I use every day. Especially the dishes.

But so does every member of my family.

I have thought about getting some dry wall, studs and styrofoam and working on finishing my ugly, ugly back porch into a truly usable area. But I have no real idea where to begin and while I’m thrifty with money, I’m not sure I could accomplish it. I pondered, briefly, ever so very briefly pondered talking to a contractor/construction guy I know how much he could do with the amount I have. I quickly pushed that idea aside as I realized his answer would be, “Uhhh, well, Mrs. FullCup, I could put in an outlet for you.”

Sigh. I’m not thinking that would really help all that much.

My nine-year-old also thought it would be a wonderful idea to spend it all on Barbies. Or Nana’s No’s Cookies.  Somehow I’m thinking that won’t happen.

Now that it is two days past Christmas, I find myself thinking it is high time to get the Christmas stuff cleared out of my house. I know people who would be truly (and are) shocked that I could think that. I also know there are people who would call me a slow-poke.

Maybe after another cup of coffee…

Happy day

Nine years ago today I gave birth to my second child, second girl.  No, this isn’t a post about the birth story because really who wants to hear that while I knew early in the day I would be giving birth at some point in time that day but didn’t even really know I was truly in labor until it was about time to push. No one wants to hear how my water broke at Runza in the mall and while I knew my water broke, I was sure they were going to send me home with, “We’re sorry, Mrs. G but you’re not in labor you wet your pants.” I’m not going to say that I wanted nothing more than to punch the ever-livin’ daylights out of my doctor because there are just somethings you don’t ever do to a woman in labor and especially not in the middle of a contraction. Have mercy.

Nope, not gonna tell you all that. But I will say, this morning I was telling God how much He blesses my socks off every single day.  The fact that I get to face another day is blessing enough for me. The fact that He gives me sunshine is really just icing on the cake.

On this, the day of my Beanie’s birth, I am awestruck by His very goodness to  me. Nine years ago I would never have imagined how much richer my life would be simply through Elizabeth’s very existence.  She is always ready with a smile, giggle, loud guffaw. She is willing to do whatever I ask and usually does it with a smile.

She loves people and feels deeply with them. It is not unusual to see her crying at sad parts in books. She feels deeply when any one is hurt.

She loves to snuggle. She still proclaims she is never growing up and never moving away. I know she will change her mind but for now, I’ll take her promises.

New Birthday Book!